There are a lot of contests for youths that are constituted by our President.Among them,the competition called "Young Reader" has become a sample of my vibrant memories.In fact,in 2022 for the first time I got to participate in the republican stage of this contest. I was left in 4th in the regional stage because of the lack of my experience.After this catastrophic lose of hope for winning,my craving for the reward has died.You may ask,who was the impetus for my constancy of attempts,then I would answer "that's my mom and my dad,they were the motivation themselves" I used to be just televiewer of this contest only, while the winners were gathered in front of the main stage I used to hear my mums words "when I will be able to see my daughter in the group of these intelligent young people?Will I see my daughter holding the main reward,waving the key of an automobile?"As I am a pupil of the russian school,where all the subjects are taught in Russian,I was strictly against to my participation in this contest as if the sky was going to fall down to the ground. But my mother's request taught me not to lose myself, our national values, literature,not to forget my mother tongue. The terms of the competition were much more difficult, I hesitated too much when i was speaking in public for preparation of the contest. It was too challenging me. How many sleepless nights,cartoonless and phoneless days have I experienced...When I prioritized my perfect participation I dreamed a lot about: discussing difficult topics with the most quick-witted readers from the different parts of my country, creating a group on a Telegram Messenger, and building a brief conversation with them.The most interesting part was the poetry challenge. I was in 4th in terms of the participants. Until this round I skimmed the whole book that was being presented to first participants.I felt that I should read this book as much as I can in order to answer to the questions of judges,but anyway the feeling of low memory-esteem left no way for me.I clearly remember that the participant called Shahriyor asked me to lend the book. I felt the powerful fire inside. Soon realized that that's called jealousy.Somehow more powerful river ran and engulfed the flame, and gave back my sense of humanity to myself. Then I gave the book to Shahriyor. I began to turn the book "Little star" of Abdulla Oripov over and over until i was called to the main stage ...Just a minute before leaving the waiting room suddenly I came across the short poem.It was about a pen. I read it just once. On the stage I was required to choose any random number on the screen with random poems behind. This is unbelievable but... overriskingly,I chose the number 13 against the beliefs that it's an unlucky number.The 4 lines of the poem behind the number were the ones that I read 5 minutes ago!!!I was amazed!!!For the whole preparation year for this contest I read this poem only once,and plus once,there,in waiting room.I was confident in describing this poem to judges,as ideas were fresh in my mind.Fortunately,I got the highest score in this part of the challenges.While leaving the stage I was completely convinced that Allah is seeing all my efforts and will not leave them without reward.But at first,I speculate,I was examined in terms of humanity.When I agreed to lend that book,i passed the exam. I could control my jealousy and put the tolerance and humanity as my priorities.From that moment,I started to take actions accepting them as if they are exams that Allah is giving.What if I had not lent the book?!I would not achieve the highest score and stage overall.Thank God,I am receiving the fruits of my hard efforts.Shortly,that competition taught me a life lesson.
