You don’t have to be great to start But you have to start to be great.

Once upon a time, in a small village nestled among rolling hills, there lived a young girl named Maya. She had big dreams—dreams that seemed impossible given her humble beginnings. Maya’s family worked tirelessly in their small farm, eking out a living from the soil. But Maya was different. She yearned for something more, something beyond the familiar fields and routine chores.

One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the village, Maya sat on the porch of her modest home. She gazed at the distant mountains, their peaks shrouded in mist. The quote she had heard from an old sage echoed in her mind: “You don’t have to be great to start, but you have to start to be great.”

Maya decided it was time to take that first step. She wanted to learn to read and write, something no one in her family had ever done. She approached the village schoolteacher, an elderly man with kind eyes. He agreed to teach her, even though the school was meant for children half her age.

Every morning, before the sun rose, Maya sat on a rough wooden bench in the schoolroom. She traced her fingers over the letters, stumbling over words, but never giving up. The other children giggled at the sight of the determined young woman, but Maya paid no heed. She knew that greatness began with the simplest of actions—the decision to learn, to grow.

As months passed, Maya’s dedication bore fruit. She could now read simple stories and write her name. But she hungered for more. She wanted to explore the world beyond the hills, to see the cities she had only heard about in tales. So, she saved every penny she could, selling vegetables at the market and doing odd jobs for neighbors.

One crisp morning, with a tattered bag slung over her shoulder, Maya set off on foot. Her journey was arduous—dusty roads, blistered feet, and nights spent under the open sky. But she pressed on, fueled by the fire within her. She visited libraries, met scholars, and soaked up knowledge like a parched sponge. Maya discovered that greatness wasn’t about grand gestures; it was about the relentless pursuit of improvement.

Years later, Maya returned to her village. She had transformed—no longer the shy girl who stumbled over letters. She had become a writer, penning stories that touched hearts. Her words inspired others to take their own first steps toward greatness. The village school now had students of all ages, eager to learn.

Maya stood before them, her eyes shining. “Remember,” she said, “you don’t have to be great to start. But you have to start to be great.” And with those words, she ignited a flame in their hearts—a flame that would burn brighter with every lesson, every effort, and every dream pursued.

And so, the legacy of Maya, the girl who dared to start, continued. Generations later, her name was whispered with reverence, not because she was born great, but because she chose to begin.