My husband and I were slightly obsessed with the Olympics this year. It’s odd since we can’t even remember watching any part of the previous three Olympics together, but this year, we broke multiple Hurst records for time spent in front of the television. We broke all the rules about not eating in front of the television and putting Lexi to bed on time. And we justified to Lexi by saying that the Summer Olympics only came around once every four years. She didn’t really need to know that the Winter Olympics are staggered in between those four years…

She had never heard of Michael Phelps or Gabby Douglas before, but she heard plenty about them during those glorious 16 days.

Okay, it was just the Olympics. They’re over. I didn’t even watch the closing ceremony. Life moves on.

Two nights ago, we went to church and Lexi was given a “gold medal.” Even she was confused about what she had done to earn it, but apparently, during the last semester, she had done well with memorizing her verses. She was in awe of it and wore it lovingly around her neck. On the way home, we were having a nice period of silence-which every parent with children in the back of the car know is an amazing feat- and we heard her ask, “Mommy and daddy, are you proud of me?”

Yes, Lexi, we are very proud of you. That was a great accomplishment in memorizing your verses.

“Is my medal better than Michael Phelps’? Is it better than Gabby’s?”

And then I understand the heart of the question. How often did I gush over the athleticism, the endurance, the strength of a Michael Phelps or Gabby Douglas? Apparently, a lot in a span of 16 days. Lexi knew that we were impressed with their accomplishments because of the pride we took when they stood up on the podium with the anthem blaring.

But here’s a universal principle. Our children need to know we’re proud of them. They need us to celebrate victories with them. I really shouldn’t speak for all the children out there. What I know for sure is that our daughter needed it at that moment in time.

Giving praise doesn’t come easily to me. I was raised under the mindset that any praise given to a child only inflates their ego. So I admit that I’m sparse with praise. This was also true at work. I was peeved when colleagues wanted praise for showing up on time or meeting job expectations. I refused to say, “Good job!” because someone did what they were expected to do. Go above and beyond, and I’ll be the one cheering the loudest.

But I missed many opportunities to show colleagues that I valued them and appreciated them. No, I didn’t need to hand out praises if they weren’t sincere, but every individual has unique value, and I wished I had taken more time to recognize others for the value they bring. I’ll agree that not everyone can win an Olympic gold medal, but within everyone beats the heart of a champion. They just may not recognize it on their own so it’s up to us as parents, colleagues, friends, teachers and neighbors to let others know that they matter and that we’re proud of them.

I was going to save Lexi’s medal forever as a reminder of this moment. But she already broke it so I need a sewing kit or super glue or something. I wonder if Michael or Gabby know how to fix a broken medal…