The Best Move

Sam was eleven years old.

He lived in a small town with his mother and his grandfather.

Sam was blind.

He could not see with his eyes.

He could not see the blue sky.

He could not see the green trees.

He could not see the faces of his friends.

But Sam could do many other things.

He could hear very well.

He could hear birds in the morning.

He could hear cars far away on the road.

He could feel things with his hands.

He could feel the soft fur of his cat.

And Sam could think.

He was very, very good at thinking.

Every morning, Sam walked to school with his white stick.

The stick helped him find his way.

He counted his steps.

He listened to the sounds around him.

He knew the way very well.

At school, some children were kind to Sam.

They talked with him.

They helped him find his desk.

But some children were not kind.

They did not understand him.

One day at break time, the children were playing football in the yard.

Sam stood near the wall and listened to them.

He wanted to play too.

A boy named Jake ran past him.

"You can't play with us, Sam," Jake said.

"You can't see the ball. You can't run fast. You will only lose the game for us." Sam said nothing.

He turned and walked away slowly.

But inside, he felt very sad.

The other boys ran off, laughing and shouting, and Sam stood alone by the wall.

He listened to the ball and to the happy voices, and he wished he could join them.

He wanted to be good at something.

He wanted to win at something, just one time.

He went home that day feeling small and alone.

When Sam got home, his grandfather was sitting in the garden.

The sun was warm.

Grandfather was old, but he was strong and happy.

He liked to sit outside and listen to the birds.

"Hello, Sam," Grandfather said.

"Why are you so quiet today? Tell me what happened." Sam sat down next to him on the bench.

"The other children say I can't do anything," Sam said.

"They say I am too slow. They say I always lose because I can't see. Maybe they are right. Maybe I am not good at anything." Grandfather was quiet for a moment.

He was thinking.

Then he smiled a big smile.

"That is not true," he said.

"Come with me. I want to show you something. I think you are going to like it."

Grandfather stood up and took Sam's hand.

They walked into the house together.

They went to a small room with a table near the window.

On the table was an old wooden box.

Sam could smell the wood.

It smelled like his grandfather.

"Sit down, Sam," Grandfather said.

Sam sat on a chair.

Grandfather opened the box.

Inside the box was a flat board and many small pieces.

"This is a chess board," Grandfather said.

"But this is a very special board. Touch it with your hands."

Sam put his hands on the board.

He felt the squares.

He moved his fingers slowly.

Something was different.

"Some squares are high," Sam said.

"Some squares are low." "Yes!" Grandfather said.

"That is right. The dark squares are high. The light squares are low. You can feel the difference with your fingers. So you can always know where each square is. You do not need to see it. You can feel it." Sam moved his fingers across the board again.

He could feel every square clearly.

He was beginning to feel excited.

Then Grandfather gave Sam a chess piece.

"Now feel this," he said.

Sam held the piece in his hand.

It was small and round.

It had a little hole in the top.

"Every piece has a special shape," Grandfather said.

"And look here. Some pieces have a small point on the top, and some do not. The pieces with the point are the black pieces. The pieces without the point are the white pieces. So you can always know which piece is yours. You can feel them, even when you can't see them." Sam felt the piece very carefully.

He could feel the shape.

He could feel the small point.

A big smile came to his face.

"I can play this game," Sam said softly.

"I can really play chess." "Yes, you can," Grandfather said.

"And I am going to teach you."

The next day, after school, Grandfather began to teach Sam the rules.

"Chess has six kinds of pieces," he said.

"The pawn, the knight, the bishop, the rook, the queen, and the king." He put each piece in Sam's hands, one by one.

"Feel them. Learn their shapes. This is the most important thing." Sam felt each piece slowly.

The pawn was small and simple.

The rook was like a little tower.

The knight was shaped like a horse.

The king was the tallest piece, with a small cross on the top.

Sam held each one until he knew it well.

"Now," Grandfather said, "each piece moves in a different way. The pawn moves forward one square. The rook moves in a straight line, up and down or side to side. The bishop moves across the squares, like this." Grandfather guided Sam's hand to show him.

Sam listened very carefully.

He moved the pieces with his fingers.

He tried to remember everything.

But it was not easy.

He made many mistakes.

"No, Sam," Grandfather said kindly.

"The knight does not move that way. The knight moves like the letter L. Two squares one way, then one square to the side. Try again." Sam thought for a moment.

Then he moved the knight again.

This time, he was right.

"Good!" Grandfather said.

"Very good. You are learning fast."

Sam practiced every day after that.

It was not easy at all.

He had to remember where all the pieces were on the board.

He had to keep the whole game in his mind, in his head.

Sometimes he forgot where a piece was.

Sometimes he moved the wrong piece.

Sometimes he made a bad move and lost his queen.

He felt tired.

He felt sad.

One evening, he wanted to stop.

"I can't do this, Grandfather," Sam said.

"It is too hard. There are too many things to remember. I will never be good." Grandfather put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sam," he said gently.

"Every good player feels like this at the start. Do not give up now. You are doing better than you think. Let us try one more time." So Sam tried again.

And slowly, day by day, week by week, he got better.

After three weeks, Sam could play a full game from start to finish.

He was still slow.

He thought for a long time before each move.

He felt the board with his fingers many times.

But he was playing real chess now.

Grandfather was very happy.

"You are thinking like a chess player," he said.

"Remember this, Sam. Chess is not about speed. Chess is not about your eyes. Chess is about thinking and planning. And you are very, very good at thinking."

One evening, after dinner, Sam and his grandfather played a long game.

Sam was concentrating very hard.

He could see the whole board in his mind.

He knew where every piece was.

White and black, all of them.

He made a plan in his head.

He moved his pieces slowly and carefully.

He waited.

He thought many moves ahead.

Then he made a special move.

He moved his queen across the board.

"Check," Sam said.

Grandfather was surprised.

He moved his king to a safe square.

But Sam was ready for this.

He had seen it coming.

He moved his knight.

"Checkmate," Sam said.

Grandfather did not say anything for a moment.

Then he began to laugh, a warm and happy laugh.

"You won!" he said.

"Sam, you beat me! That was a beautiful game. You made a clever plan, and I did not see it coming." Sam smiled the biggest smile of his life.

For the first time, he had really won at something.

He had used his mind, and he had won.

He felt warm and happy all over.

"Can we play again tomorrow?" he asked.

"Of course," Grandfather said.

"We will play every day."

At Sam's school, there was a chess club.

The club met every Wednesday after class, in the library.

Sam knew about the club, and now he wanted to join it.

But he was afraid.

What if the other children laughed at him?

What if they said a blind boy could not play chess?

What if he lost every game?

He told his grandfather about his fear.

"Be brave, Sam," Grandfather said.

"You are a good player now. You will not know what happens until you try. Go and show them what you can do." So the next Wednesday, Sam took a deep breath and went to the chess club.

The teacher who ran the club was named Mr. Brown.

He was a kind man with a soft voice.

"Welcome, Sam," he said.

"I am happy you came. Do you want to learn to play chess with us?" "I already know how to play," Sam said.

"My grandfather taught me. But I need a special board, because I am blind. I need a board I can feel with my hands." Mr. Brown smiled.

"I think we can find one," he said.

A boy named Max was listening to them.

Max was the best young player in the chess club.

He had won many games, and he was a little proud.

He laughed.

"A blind boy can't play chess," Max said.

"You can't even see the board. You can't see the pieces. This is a waste of time. You should go and do something else." Some of the other children laughed too.

Sam's face went hot and red.

He wanted to run away.

But he remembered his grandfather's words.

He stood up straight.

"I can play," Sam said in a clear voice.

"Just give me a chance. Let me show you."

Mr. Brown went to a cupboard and looked inside.

After a minute, he came back with a special chess board.

It was just like Grandfather's board.

The dark squares were high and the light squares were low.

The pieces had special shapes, and the black pieces had a small point on top.

"Here you are, Sam," Mr. Brown said kindly.

"Now you can play with us." Sam felt the board with his hands.

He smiled.

It felt like home.

Max was still smiling, but in an unkind way.

"I will play him," Max said.

"This will be easy. I will win in five minutes. Then he will see that he can't really play." The other children gathered around the table to watch.

Sam sat down on one side.

He felt the board carefully, learning where everything was.

He was nervous.

His heart was beating fast.

But again he remembered his grandfather's words.

"Chess is about thinking. You are very good at thinking." Sam took a slow, deep breath and felt calm.

The game began.

Max moved very fast.

He did not think very much.

He was sure he was going to win.

Sam moved slowly.

He felt each piece with his fingers.

He kept the whole board in his mind.

He made a careful plan, like his grandfather had taught him.

After a few moves, Max took one of Sam's pawns.

"See?" Max said to the other children.

"I'm already winning. This is too easy." Some children laughed.

But Sam was not worried.

Losing a pawn was part of his plan.

He was thinking many moves ahead, deep in his mind.

The game went on.

Max moved fast again and again.

But slowly, something changed.

Max stopped laughing.

Sam was playing very well.

Very, very well.

Sam took Max's bishop.

A few moves later, Sam took Max's rook.

Max began to worry.

He sat up straight.

He started to think harder before each move.

But it was too late now.

Sam had a strong position on the board.

He was in control of the game.

The other children were quiet now.

They watched closely.

"How is he doing this?" one girl whispered to her friend.

"He can't even see the board, but he is winning." Sam felt his pieces one more time, checking his plan.

Everything was ready.

He moved his queen forward.

"Check," he said softly.

Max looked at the board with wide eyes.

He moved his king to escape.

But Sam had already seen the answer.

He moved his knight to the right square.

"Checkmate," Sam said.

The room was completely silent for a moment.

Then all the children began to talk at once.

"He won!" "Sam beat Max!" "That was amazing!" "I can't believe it!" Max sat back in his chair.

He was very surprised.

For a moment, he felt angry.

He did not like to lose.

But then he thought about the game.

Sam had played better than him.

Much better.

Max looked across the table at Sam.

"You... you are really good," Max said slowly.

"I am sorry I laughed at you before. That was wrong of me. That was a great game." Sam smiled.

"Thank you," he said.

"You are a good player too. You just move too fast. You don't take time to think." Max laughed, but this time it was a kind and friendly laugh.

"Maybe you can teach me to think more slowly," he said.

"I would like that."

After that Wednesday, everything began to change for Sam.

The children in the chess club did not laugh at him anymore.

Now they wanted to play with him.

They wanted to learn from him.

They asked him questions about his plans and his moves.

Sam was happy to help them.

He liked sharing what he knew.

And the biggest change of all was Max.

Max became Sam's good friend.

The two boys played chess together every Wednesday.

Sometimes Max won.

Sometimes Sam won.

But they always had fun, and they always learned something new from each other.

Soon, Sam was helping the other children in the club.

He showed them how to keep their king safe.

He showed them how to make a plan before they moved.

"Don't move too fast," he always said.

"Stop and think first. Think about what your friend wants to do." The children listened to him.

They were surprised that a blind boy could teach them so much.

But Sam understood chess deep in his mind, and his help was very good.

Even Max learned new things from Sam.

"You see the board better than me," Max said one day, "and you can't even see it at all. That is funny, isn't it?" Sam laughed.

"I see it in here," he said, and he pointed to his head.

"That is the only place you really need to see a chess game."

One Wednesday, Mr. Brown stood up and made an announcement.

"I have some exciting news," he said.

"There is going to be a big chess tournament next month. Children from many different schools will come. The best young players in the whole city will play against each other. It is a big event. Who in our club wants to join the tournament?" Many children raised their hands.

Sam raised his hand too, high in the air.

Max saw him.

"Are you really going to play in the tournament?" Max asked.

"Yes," Sam said.

"I want to try. I want to see how good I can be." "Good," Max said with a smile.

"I think you can do very well. You are one of the best players in our club now."

Sam practiced very hard for the tournament.

Every day after school, he played chess with his grandfather in the small room by the window.

Grandfather taught him new ideas and new plans.

He taught him how to start a game well.

He taught him how to keep his king safe.

"In a tournament, you will meet strong players," Grandfather said.

"Some of them will be very good, better than the children at your club. They will try to surprise you. So you must stay calm. Think slowly. Do not move too fast. And always trust yourself." Sam listened to every word.

He was nervous about the tournament.

But he was also very excited.

At last, the day of the tournament came.

Sam's mother and grandfather took him to a big hall in the center of the city.

Sam could hear that the hall was very large.

There were many tables and many chairs.

There were many, many children, all talking at once.

The hall was full of noise and movement.

Sam felt nervous again.

His hands were a little cold.

"I don't know if I can do this," he said quietly.

"There are so many people." Grandfather put a warm hand on his shoulder.

"You can do this, Sam," he said.

"You have worked so hard. Remember, chess is about thinking, and no one thinks better than you. Just stay calm and play your own game. I will be right here, waiting for you."

Sam's first game was against a tall boy named Tom.

Tom was a strong player, and he had won the tournament before.

But Sam stayed calm, just like his grandfather said.

He felt the board with his hands.

He made his plans carefully.

The game was long and hard.

Both boys thought for a long time before each move.

Tom played well, but Sam played better.

He found a clever plan, and in the end, Sam won the game.

Tom shook his hand.

"Well done," Tom said.

"You are a very good player." Sam was so happy.

He had won his first tournament game.

Sam's second game was against a girl named Lucy.

Lucy was very fast and very clever.

She moved her pieces quickly, and she had many tricks.

Sam had to think very, very hard.

In the middle of the game, he almost lost his queen.

He almost lost the whole game.

His heart was beating fast.

But Sam did not panic.

He felt the board again, slowly and carefully.

And at the very last moment, he found a clever move that saved him.

A few moves later, he won the game.

Now Sam was in the final game of the tournament.

He could not believe it.

He, Sam, the blind boy who could not play football, was in the final.

Before the final game, there was a short rest.

Sam went to his mother and grandfather.

His hands were shaking a little.

"I am so nervous," he said.

"The next player is the best in the city. What if I lose? Everyone is watching me." His mother held his hands to keep them warm.

"Sam, listen to me," she said.

"We are already so proud of you. You do not need to win to make us happy. Just play your game and enjoy it." Grandfather smiled.

"And remember," he said, "the other player is nervous too. She has never played someone like you before. Stay calm, my boy. Trust your mind." Sam took a deep breath.

He felt better.

He was ready.

The final game was against a girl named Anna.

Anna was the best young chess player in the whole city.

She had won many tournaments before.

Everyone in the hall wanted to watch the final game.

They gathered around the table and went quiet.

Sam sat down on one side.

He felt the special board with his hands, learning the squares.

Anna sat down across from him.

"Good luck, Sam," Anna said.

Her voice was kind.

"I have heard you are a great player." "Good luck to you too," Sam said.

"I have heard you are the best."

The final game began.

Anna was a very good player, and Sam could feel it.

She made strong, clever moves.

She had a plan, and it was a good one.

Sam thought slowly and carefully.

He kept the whole board in his mind, every piece in its place.

The game went on and on.

It was very long.

Both players were thinking with all their strength.

Sometimes Anna was winning.

Sometimes Sam was winning.

The room was very quiet.

Everyone was watching, holding their breath.

Sam's grandfather watched with proud eyes.

Then, deep in his mind, Sam found something.

He saw a plan, clear and bright.

It was a beautiful plan.

If he moved his pieces in just the right way, he could win.

But he had to be very careful.

One wrong move would spoil everything.

Sam moved his pieces slowly, one by one.

He gave nothing away.

Anna did not see the danger coming.

She was looking at another part of the board.

Sam moved his rook into place.

Then he moved his queen.

"Check," Sam said.

Anna looked surprised.

She moved her king to a safe square.

But Sam was ready.

This was the moment he had planned.

He moved his bishop to the final square.

"Checkmate," Sam said quietly.

For a moment, the whole room was silent.

No one moved.

Then everyone began to clap and cheer at the same time.

The sound filled the hall.

Anna looked at the board for a long time.

She studied Sam's last move.

Then she smiled and put out her hand.

"That was wonderful," she said.

"You are a great player, Sam. You beat me, and you played a truly beautiful game. I am happy I played against you." Sam shook her hand.

He had won.

He had won the whole tournament.

He could not stop smiling.

His mother and grandfather ran across the hall to him.

"You did it! You did it!" his mother said.

She was crying happy tears and hugging him tight.

Grandfather hugged Sam too, holding him close.

"I am so proud of you," Grandfather said in a soft voice.

"You are a true chess player, Sam. The best I have ever seen." Mr. Brown was there, and he gave Sam a big gold cup.

Max was there too, jumping up and down.

"You are the champion!" Max shouted.

"I always knew you could do it! You are the best player in the whole city!" Sam held the gold cup in his two hands.

He could not see it, but he could feel it.

It was cold and smooth and heavy.

It felt wonderful in his hands.

That night, Sam sat in the garden with his grandfather.

The air was cool and the night was quiet.

Sam could hear a few birds and the soft wind in the trees.

"Grandfather," Sam said.

"Thank you. You taught me to play chess. You taught me that I can do something special. You taught me that I can win." Grandfather was quiet for a moment.

Then he spoke.

"No, Sam," he said gently.

"I only showed you the board and the pieces. You did all the rest. You practiced every day. You did not give up, even when it was hard. You learned to think and to plan. The best move was never on the chess board, Sam. The best move was the moment you decided to try, even when you were afraid."

Sam smiled.

He felt the cool night air on his face.

He turned his head up toward the sky.

He could not see the stars above him.

But he did not need to see them.

He knew they were there, shining bright in the dark, just for him.

And for the first time in his life, Sam knew something deep inside his heart.

He could do anything.

He just had to be brave, and to keep thinking, and to never give up.

"Grandfather," he said after a while, "will you teach me a new chess plan tomorrow?" Grandfather laughed softly in the dark.

"Of course I will," he said.

"We have a whole life of games to play." And the two of them sat together in the quiet garden, happy and warm, while the bright stars looked down on the boy who had found the best move of all.