Holidailies: Appreciation (Part 3)

I was browsing through a message board one day and an advertisement for a dance studio jumped out at me. OK, it wasnt really an advertisement, per se. In fact, it wasnt an advertisement at all. Someone was asking for a recommendation for a dance class for their little girl and I wanted to see if anyone would recommend the dance studio that had broken my girl's love of dance. Someone did. And just as I was reaching for the "Reply to this message" button, I stopped to read the rest of the responses. Just beneath, in a fairly non descript post, someone had a recommendation for a dance studio I had thought was gone. you see, many people had recommended this dance studio and the lady who ran it, but when we went to look for it, it had closed down. Or so we thought.



As it turned out, she had closed her studio, but was still offering small group lessons and in a location that was 50 000x better than the last place! I felt a mix between excitement and fear. What if going to a different teacher really wasnt the problem? What if my girls really were just disillusioned by dancing for life?



I first asked Elena if she was willing to try dancing again. She had, after all, been more willing to stick it out the last time around. She agreed to a new dance teacher and more dance lessons. Thankfully, Elena's memory is shorter and her hard feelings, while pasionate, are not long lasting. She is not one to hold a grudge forever.



Julia, though, had to be approached a bit more delicately. So we told her that she could just watch Elena's class and see if it was something that she wanted to join. We spoke to the teacher, a lovely lady who was just as crestfallen about Julia's experiences in dance as we were. Her visible dismay when we told her that Julia had lost her love of dancing was telling.



"But all little girls should love to dance! They should dance everywhere! In the kitchen! In the living room! In the grocery store!" She flapped her hands as she spoke, her distress punctuating each place that she saw would-be petite ballerinas. She had me then, but her words only helped to solidify my feeling that I had found the teacher I wanted to teach my children.



Julia and I peeked in the windows at Elena's class and saw the songs and rhymes, the way she held their hands as they danced and played beautiful classical ballet andantes and waltzes. We saw the thoughtful props--sparkly wands and fluttering scarves. And as we watched Julia grew excited and interested. And thus, Julia's love of dancing was rekindled.



I can not express my gratitude in clear enough words to say what is in my heart. What gift is there for someone's creativity? What appreciation is sufficient for someone's childhood joy?



We can only do small things in our lives, perhaps. Mother Teresa famously said that if we do those small things with great love, great things will happen.



I agree. Ms. Joanne, you have done a great thing, though it may seem small to you. And for that I am eternally grateful.