At nine, my mom used to tell me she saw an Olympic medalist in

Hear now the words of Saina Nehwal, a daughter of India, whose triumphs were born not only from her own striving but from the vision of one who loved her before she believed in herself: “At nine, my mom used to tell me she saw an Olympic medalist in me. I used to take it as a joke, but she was very serious.” Simple though these words may seem, they are a hymn to the unseen power of a parent’s faith, to the shaping of destiny by words spoken long before the world takes notice. For what is prophecy if not the unwavering belief that calls forth greatness where others see only a child?

The ancients knew well that the seeds of greatness are planted in the tender years of youth, when the soul is soft clay, ready to be molded. To tell a child, “I see a champion in you,” is to plant in her the seed of possibility, a vision of what she may become. At nine, Saina may have laughed, for to a child the heights of Olympus seem impossibly far. Yet her mother’s seriousness was a guiding star, a flame that would burn through years of practice, hardship, and doubt. Such is the power of belief: it transforms a jest into destiny.

Consider the story of Themistocles, the Athenian statesman, whose father once mocked him for playing with toy ships instead of horses. Yet Themistocles declared, “You will see me rule not upon land, but upon the sea.” And so it was that he saved Athens at the Battle of Salamis, guiding fleets to victory. The vision of greatness, whether given by parent or born within, has always been the force that carries mortals into legend. Saina’s mother, like the prophets of old, saw not only the child before her but the champion hidden within.

There is also in these words a lesson of humility. For Saina herself admits she once took the prophecy as a joke. How often do we laugh at the visions others hold for us, dismissing them as impossible? Yet the laughter of youth can be the veil that hides the truth: that others often see in us what we cannot yet see in ourselves. The wise do not dismiss such visions lightly, for within them may lie the very path to destiny.

But let us not mistake this as mere wishful thinking. Behind every medal, behind every laurel crown, lies the long road of sacrifice. A mother’s vision is the spark, but the child’s labor must be the fire. From dawn to dusk, with racket in hand, Saina forged herself into the image her mother once foretold. Dreams spoken aloud become real only when they are carried on the back of discipline, resilience, and the will to endure defeat without surrender.

We see echoes of this in the story of Thomas Edison, who as a boy was thought slow by his teachers. His mother, however, refused to accept this judgment, teaching him at home and telling him he was destined for brilliance. Her faith lit the path for one of history’s greatest inventors. So too with Saina Nehwal: the mother’s faith became the soil in which greatness grew, watered by sweat and perseverance until it blossomed into the glory of Olympic honor.

The lesson is clear: words create worlds. What we speak into the lives of others—especially into the hearts of children—shapes the foundation of their future. Therefore, let parents speak not only correction but prophecy, not only discipline but encouragement. And let children, when they hear words of greatness spoken over them, not dismiss them as folly but carry them as hidden treasures, to be tested in the fires of time.

So, my friends, take this wisdom into your lives: see greatness in those around you and name it aloud. Believe for them when they do not yet believe for themselves. And if such words have ever been spoken over you, do not cast them aside in laughter. For the vision of a parent, a mentor, or a friend may one day be revealed as truth, if only you have the courage to walk the long and narrow road toward it. In this way, the jest of today becomes the triumph of tomorrow, and the prophecy of love becomes the crown of destiny.