The playground sparkled in the morning sun. Leo stood by the fence, watching big kids zoom across the balance beam like airplanes.
Leo climbed the steps. The beam looked very far up from the bottom. "I want to try," he whispered.
Leo stepped onto the cold beam. His legs wiggled like a duck on ice. A blue butterfly landed on his shoe. He giggled and steadied himself.
Leo's knees shook. He stepped backward off the beam. A squirrel dropped an acorn by his foot. He stared at it, then at the beam.
Leo put one foot on the beam. Then the other. His arms knew exactly where to go.
He glided across the beam. The world tilted left and right, and Leo grinned the biggest grin ever.
Leo hopped off the end and bounced once on the mulch. "I did it!" he said to the air.
He marched back to the start and looked up at the beam. It didn't look so scary this time.
Leo stepped up to the beam again. This time his hands didn't shake.
His feet found their rhythm. Left, right, left, right — steady as a drum.
Leo reached the end and jumped off with a triumphant cheer. The other kids clapped.
Leo walked back to the end of the beam and stretched his arms wide again. "Again!"
