I learned early on in my life that there a handful of things that can truly make me smile: children, dance, and the gospel of Jesus Christ. During the three weeks that felt as though I would never see daylight again, I continued to teach ballet to 15 tiny dancers. I distinctly remember driving an hour to get to the studio, ready to walk in and tell my boss that I needed to go home and take a "mental health day." Once I walked in, I couldn't help but feel the genuine and sincere love from my students. They were excited to see me and I was bombarded with hugs and updates on the week--everything from Santa's impending arrival to love interests to a recent birthday party. Their smiles were contagious. Their energy lit up the otherwise dark night sky that creeped in through the windows.
My first 4 performances of the season were for a local Christmas worship service and began later that week. The "Imagine Christmas" production is put on every year in Bristow, Virginia and includes an orchestra, a children's choir, an adult choir, sermons, and dancers. I had two rehearsals to learn and perfect my piece. The choreographer told me the movements were to tell the story of Mary's response to seeing the Angel Gabriel. Once I understood that, the dance took a deeper meaning and dedication. However, every time I had practiced the dance on the stage I had forgotten a different piece of the choreography. Before each of the four performances, I fervently prayed that I could dance from my heart, that even if I forgot a step, I could continue to worship through the movements and music. During my 2nd performance, my mind blanked. But as soon as I finished the last step that I could remember, the steps that followed flooded into my mind and I continued to perform what felt like a flawless performance. I have no doubt my Heavenly Father answered my innocent prayers that day.
My last 2 performances were for my studio's production of "The Nutcracker." Last year I spent every free moment, and every not-so-free-moment rehearsing for the Grand Pas de Deux. This year, as somewhat as a blessing in disguise, my boss could not find a male dancer to partner me for the pas de deux and I had more time to focus on my hectic school and church schedule. When the performances began last weekend, I had just finished my school semester, allowing me to enjoy the thrill of dancing without any looming deadlines. I was able to dance alongside my students and they loved calling me THE Sugar Plum Fairy. They doted on me and I felt appreciated and loved. Right before the curtain went up for the first performance, I felt an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude--both from my Heavenly Father and for the many hours that the parents, teachers, and students selflessly put into this production. I couldn't stop smiling as the curtains opened--and luckily never stopped.
Parents never stopped thanking me for my talents. I was told I was in a different caliber of dancing and they were so grateful for all I do for their children. Being able to feel so much appreciation and love is foreign to me in the dance world. Coming back to a nurturing and positive environment is such a blessing.
The morning after my last performance, my mother told me how much she loves to watch me dance and what a huge blessing it is for me to teach and dance in such a positive environment. She told me that it would be wonderful if I could find a way to make it work next year. I admitted I had already committed in my mind to always make it work. Part of it is self-care--the joy and release it is to dance. Part of it is the reward--the ability to see my dancers feel a sense of pride over their hard work, as well as the accomplishment it is for me.
This week I have felt an added measure of the Spirit in preparation for Christmas. I know Christ was born to Mary some 2000 years ago. I know He lives. He continues to bless us. I know He loves us and I am eternally indebted to Him. I wish you all a Blessed and Merry Christmas.
As I close my last post for the year, I want to publicly express my appreciation for Mark. He is my rock. He has seen me at my worst and my best and still loves me all the same. He makes me feel like royalty. Thank you. I love you.
