This past Christmas we saw The Nutcracker at the San Francisco Opera House.
We dressed up, wore extra thick jackets, and put on our best shoes.
And my 4-year-old daughter loved every bit of it.
It was her first time seeing a real ballet production. It was her first time sitting in fancy velvety chairs and needing to be quiet – and still – for nearly two hours. Impossible as it was for this little ball of energy, she did it. She was mezmorized by the whole affair… the costumes, the beautiful music, the way the dancers moved like clouds in the sky.
She now wants to dance more than ever.
Just two weeks ago, she started her first ballet lesson over at the community center. After that lesson, she was simply over the moon.
She hasn’t stopped twirling in front of the mirror.
“Today is my ballet class!!” she says, immediately pulling on her dancing clothes (a mix of hand me downs and fresh new white tights) – even though her lesson doesn’t begin for another seven hours.
In her class, I watch her as she wiggles, spins, and scampers around with a crew of other little girls of all shapes and sizes and levels of grace.
Every little girl, so adorable in her own way, dancing freely. All of them periodically looking out the large window, to catch a glimpse of their momma’s eyes.
I do think my daughter is especially sweet out there on the dance floor. But if she inherits my dancing grace, sorry to say, she will never quite be a prodigy.
But she wants to dance.
Because her young, believing spirit hasn’t heard that she can’t.
And today, she feels beautiful and so hopeful in her own skin.
I feel over the moon for her!
No matter how the music plays, I pray this never changes.