More Than a Letter
What Meg’s Coach Needed to Hear
Meg almost left the letter in her backpack.
It was the last practice. Teammates were gathering their things, parents were waiting, and her coach was collecting volleyballs.
“Coach? I made something for you.”
She held out a folded piece of paper.
Her coach smiled. “For me?”
Meg nodded. “You can read it later.”
What Meg didn’t know was how much her coach had needed something good that day.
A painful divorce was unraveling life at home. Concentrating at work had become difficult. Conversations with her own children left her searching for answers she didn’t have.
Then came practice.
Wipe your eyes. Grab the whistle. Smile.
“Bring it in, girls!”
She wanted to be there for this team. But lately, showing up took more than anyone realized.
A parent’s frustration over a game decision had followed her home. A forgotten drill felt like one more failure. Some nights, she wondered whether anything she did mattered anymore.
She wasn’t just tired of coaching.
She was tired of trying to hold her life together.
After the last family left, she sat down and unfolded Meg’s letter.
Meg wrote about being nervous to try volleyball. About being hard on herself. About the times she had wanted to quit—and how glad she was that she hadn’t.
She wrote about belonging to a team. The encouragement during practice. The huddles that helped her understand she was chosen and didn’t have to prove her worth.
Then her coach reached the part about mistakes not defining her.
She read it again.
That was something she had wanted Meg to understand.
Somewhere along the way, she had stopped believing it about herself.
She lowered the letter into her lap.
The divorce wasn’t over. Tomorrow would still be difficult. She still needed support.
But sitting there in that quiet gym, she could finally see something her exhaustion had hidden.
She hadn’t failed at everything.
Something good had happened this season.
That evening, she called a trusted friend.
“I’ve been saying I’m fine,” she admitted. “I’m not.”
Meg hadn’t known the whole story. It wasn’t hers to fix.
She had simply put her gratitude on paper.
And her coach carried it home.
Beyond the Story: The Parent Corner
This story was inspired by a real letter an athlete wrote to her coach after a recent season.
One line stopped me: “You have shown me that my mistakes don’t define me.”
Think about that.
We see a practice. A game. A decision we disagree with.
But what about the rest of the week?
The person coaching our child has a life beyond the sidelines. There may be burdens we know nothing about when we approach them frustrated.
That doesn’t mean our concerns don’t matter. It means the person receiving them matters, too.
Proverbs 12:25 puts it this way:
“The weight of worry drags us down, but a good word lightens our day.”
A good word.
Not a perfect speech. Not an answer to every problem.
Sometimes, a simple letter that says, “What you did mattered to me.”
And maybe you’re the one who needs encouragement right now.
Then let this Parent Corner offer you some: A difficult season is not the whole story of your life. You matter beyond what you accomplish. You don’t have to carry everything alone.
One More Step Together
Who came to mind while you were reading?
- A coach?
- A teacher?
- Your spouse?
- A friend who keeps showing up?
Write to them this week.
Tell them something specific they did. Tell them why it mattered. Don’t assume they already know.
And if you’re struggling, let someone you trust know what you’re carrying, too.
I believe we’re all one thought, one word, or one action away from a totally different life.
Not because one moment fixes everything.
But because one moment can become the beginning of something different.
You don’t have to know someone’s whole story to offer a word that helps them keep writing it.
One more step together.
Win The Day,
Troy Farley
FCA Sports Leagues Director
