Shooting Toward a Goal
    
Maggie had grown up loving archery. She’d even won some tournaments, but she’d never been in a tournament as large as this. Maggie signed in and waited. She was ready. She had practiced the night before and had a bull’s-eye every time. If she could do that, then this would be a breeze.
    
“Margret Kevel,” the announcer called. Maggie stood up, steadily walking to the front. Before her was the target. She knew what to do. She was good. There was no chance she’d lose.
    
She picked up the bow, aimed, and let go.
    
Three weeks later a letter arrived addressed to Margret Kevel. Maggie held the letter in confident hands and ripped it open. The letter inside read:

Miss Kevel,
    
We are sorry to inform you that you did not make it to the finals. With a score of 95%, only the top three scores make it to the state competition.    
                            Sincerely,    
The Indiana Bull’s-Eye Club

    
Maggie had failed—she had lost. She had been so sure. How could this happen? Angry, Maggie blinked back tears. “Ninety-five . . . I quit!” was all she could think as she ran to her room.
    
Later that evening she went behind the barn to her target tree. When she got there she saw all the holes she’d made while practicing. She rolled up her sleeve, looking at a scar she’d gotten the very first time she shot a bow. The string had slapped her hard on the arm, leaving its mark. Now she barely got scraped. Maggie sat, absorbed in her thoughts. She wouldn’t quit—not yet, not ever. She would keep trying until she won. She would practice until she accomplished her goal. Margret Kevel wasn’t a quitter.
    
That year she practiced. She’d come home from school, get her homework done, and then shoot until her legs got tired and her arms ached.
    
When the next competition arose, she entered.
    
Three weeks later, a letter arrived. Without even opening it, she knew that she had already won.

Moral: Practice makes perfect.