As I sat at the rodeo waiting for it to begin, I glanced over and saw the area where contestants park their trailers. Sometimes, it’s good to just allow your mind wander off deep in thought. As I was staring at this beautiful scene, I began to get curious. I began to ask questions I don’t think anyone can really answer. I wondered, how many dreams were born here. How many hearts have been broken? How many bones have been broken? How many times did a contestant refuse to be told they were not good enough? How many people have been proven wrong? How many boys have been turned into men after going 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fumanchu? What I thought about most, was how many people sat right where I sat, and realized they had a purpose to fulfill?

Dreams can be born anywhere, at any time. Mine just so happened to be in Lancaster County, but that is a story for another time. It can happen when you’re a kid, it can happen when your grown, hell it can even happen when your old and gray like me. Once that dream is finally realized, once our purpose is made clear, it then becomes our job, our responsibility, our duty, to do WHATEVER it takes to make that dream come true.