Friday nights and championship lights, Westside pride ran strong and clear. Cheerleading and volleyball, State Championships every year. Cynthia and me out on the lawn, Building drill team routines step by step, Then racing side by side around the track— Doing the 880 and the mile. We didn't have girls' basketball then, So Cindy and I asked, “Why?” Marched ourselves into the principal's office— Might as well give it a try. First year we laughed more than we practiced, Second year they made us run; By the fourth quarter we were still going strong When everybody else was spent and done. I was learning when to run, I was learning when to stay, Learning when to stand my ground And when to choose another way. Between the farm and Friday nights, Faith and friends and victory, I thought I was just growing up— But I was becoming me. There were girls I once called friends Who chose a road I wouldn't take. I found Laura, found my people, Found the choices I would make. Malad games and handsome boys, Blue eyes I dreamed about for miles; They hardly knew that we existed— But they certainly made us smile. Coach Smith said, “I'm building men; Winning isn't why I'm here.” When his players broke the rules at State, He made his meaning clear. Seniors watched there from the stands, While younger boys took the field; I learned a principle means little If you drop it when it's hard. Seminary every school day, Young Women, road shows, songs and prayer, Campfires, dances, Sunday worship— Faith was woven everywhere. Mom beside me, leaders teaching, Truth becoming something mine; Not just rules that I'd been given, But a compass deep inside. Once through Weston Canyon, I knew each curve and knew the road; Aleta begged me to drive faster But something whispered, No. Then we came around a bend and Cattle covered the road ahead— Sometimes faith means running harder, Sometimes listening instead. And there was music through it all, Mama's hands upon the keys, Choirs and shows and practicing the piano, Songs came naturally to me. I didn't know how much I'd treasure That strong voice I carried then; I only knew I loved the feeling When I'd open up and sing. I was learning when to run, I was learning when to stay, Learning I could make things happen, Learning I could choose my way. Between the farm and Friday nights, Family, faith and victory, I thought I was just growing up— But I was becoming me. Championships and grades would fade, Those crowded years would become a memory; But somewhere in the running, singing, Choosing, believing, becoming— I was becoming me.
