I don't really remember a time younger than 5 years old that I

Hear the words of Michelle Kwan: “I don’t really remember a time younger than 5 years old that I didn’t have skates on because all I can remember is every day, tying up my skates and a big smile on my face, excited to go on the ice.” In this remembrance lies the story of devotion, of a life shaped from its earliest days by passion. The skates, bound each morning with small and eager hands, were not merely tools of sport but symbols of purpose, discipline, and joy. And the smile she recalls is not only the innocence of a child, but the spark of destiny that would carry her into greatness.

The ancients taught that greatness is not born in a single moment but forged in long devotion, begun early, sharpened daily. As the blacksmith strikes the iron again and again until it glows with fire and takes its form, so too was Kwan shaped by her daily ritual of lacing skates and stepping onto the ice. What others might see as repetition, she embraced as joy. In her words, one hears not weariness, but excitement—the eagerness to meet the cold air, the smooth ice, the endless possibility of movement.

History gives us many examples of such early devotion. Consider Mozart, who from the age of four sat at the harpsichord, his small fingers discovering melodies while other children played with toys. His early discipline, rooted in joy, blossomed into music that still stirs hearts centuries later. Just as Mozart’s childhood was bound to music, Kwan’s was bound to the ice. Their stories reveal a common truth: that those who give themselves wholly to a craft in youth may grow into masters who touch eternity.

Yet notice also the balance in Kwan’s words. She does not speak only of labor or discipline. She speaks of a smile—the radiant joy that accompanied her daily task. For without joy, discipline becomes drudgery, and passion withers into burden. The secret of her strength was not merely persistence, but delight. Each day’s return to the rink was not a duty imposed but a choice embraced, a child’s happiness blooming into an athlete’s purpose.

There is wisdom here for all. Whatever your path may be, seek the work that brings both challenge and smile. Do not imagine that greatness is found only in toil and sacrifice; it is found in the fusion of effort and joy. A life of passion is one where discipline and delight walk hand in hand. Kwan’s early memory teaches us that when love of craft is sown in youth and nurtured each day, it becomes not a chain but a set of wings.

The lesson, then, is this: find your ice, whatever it may be—your place of passion, your daily practice that fills you with both effort and joy. Lace up your shoes, your boots, your instruments, or your tools as she laced up her skates. Approach each day with the smile of one who is not burdened but blessed to pursue what they love. And let that joy sustain you through the years, carrying you forward when the world grows heavy.

So let this wisdom endure: greatness is not born in the single triumph, but in the daily devotion begun in childhood and carried with joy. Michelle Kwan’s memory of skates and smiles is more than nostalgia—it is testimony that passion, when nurtured early and pursued with love, can shape a life into something enduring, luminous, and inspiring for generations to come.