The Tale of a Little Ballerina

Once upon a time there was a little girl who was surrounded by a world of blue and toy guns and boys.  All day long she dreamed of pink and tutus and dancing.  She watched ballerinas with wonder in her eyes and dreamed of the day she could dance across a stage just like them.

Then one day she turned 4 and her mommy asked her if she wanted to go to dance class.  The little girl remembered all the stories that inspired her: Angelina Ballerina and Fancy Nancy and Anna Pavlova’s book I Dreamed I was a Ballerina and the little girl was delighted that her day had finally come.

She picked out her pink tights and her pink ballet shoes and her black leotard and that little girl practiced and practiced…long before she even set foot in a classroom.

Then classes began.  And the little girl marveled at the idea that there were other little girls…  Little girls that loved fancy and pink and tulle.

The little girl fell in love with her teachers.  She watched with awe as they danced with grace and poise and the little girl wished to be just like them.  She hung on their every word and basked in their praise.

The little girl practiced her ballet often.  She enticed her brothers into practicing with her with the promise of stickers and praise.  She went to class twice a week, with enthusiasm and excitement that never wavered.

She sat rooted in place, her heart full and her imagination fueled, when she went to the ballet productions put on in the city.  She cheered and clapped when one of her teachers took the starring role in Giselle.  She dreamed that one day she would dance across that big stage under the bright lights.

She continued to practice.  She dressed up her plain black leotard for class with as much fluff as she could…leg warmers and tulle skirts, bun covers and sparkly hairpins.  Then her costumes for the recital arrived and the little girl oohed and ahhed over the beautiful fabric and the yards of tulle.  Her costumes were hung on a fan in the school room to allow the layers of tulle to settle and every day she waltzed under those costumes, dreaming of her day.

Finally, her day arrived.  The day she would dance on the big stage, under the bright lights.  Of course, her first experience would be a rehearsal but it all felt so real because everything had to be exactly as it would be on the night of the official performance.

The little girl sat still while her mommy put on make-up.  Just a little to offset the harsh lights on the stage.  A little blush, a little mascara, some eye shadow and lipstick.  Concealer was applied to the scrape below her nose where just a few days before she had taken a nose dive off of her bike.  Her hair was swept up into a bun.  She looked adorably perfect.

She arrived early to the theater, surprised that she got to enter through the door for performers.  It was real.  Soon she would be performing!  She went upstairs into the dressing room and joined the other girls, big and small, as they all put on their costumes.  New pink tights, worn ballet shoes and her beautiful new costume.  She was ready.

Soon it was her turn.  She joined her classmates and walked up on the stage.  It was dark and each little girl tiptoed their way to their starting mark.  The lights flashed on and the music began and that little girl danced her sweet little heart out.

The little girl had to wait for her turn to come again so she could dance with her second class.  While she waited, she found her friends (the ones who also loved fancy and tulle and sparkles) and posed for photos. 

She returned to the dressing room ready to dance again.  While she prepared, she watched the big girls get ready.  They put on their costumes and applied their makeup and when the little girl worked up the courage to tell them how beautiful they were, they adorned her with compliments of their own and the little girl basked in their attention.

The little girl soon joined her second class and they watched a group of the big girls dance.  The little girl watched in awe as they twirled and spun and her eyes lit up with the idea that she could be just like them. 

It was her turn again and she went up on that big stage under the bright lights and she danced with a joyful heart.  She felt special and important and most of all, she felt she was really a dancer.  Just like the big girls.  

After her rehearsals were over, the little girl returned home to anxiously await the night of her official recital.  She hummed and danced wherever she went.  She counted down the minutes until she would dance on the big stage again.

The night of her recital arrived.  The little girl was proud to show her family how much progress she had made.  Finally, they too would know that she was a dancer. 

She gathered with her friends (the ones that love fancy and fluffy and sparkles) and when their turn came, they danced a beautiful dance.  

And when she was finished dancing, the audience clapped and cheered and the little girl knew that she had done well.  She was proud of her hard work.  Her daddy brought her flowers and she knew she was special.  She was a dancer.  

{And this is only the beginning of her story…more dancing is yet to come}

*please note that the videos are taken by an amateur…clearly they don’t do justice to the beauty that took place on the big stage under the bright lights

2 thoughts on “The Tale of a Little Ballerina

  1. I love the pics of the girls! This was a wonderful experience for us. I’m glad to have met you and the other amazing moms. Hope to see y’all next ballet season.


  2. This was spectacular! The blog and the event. I am so happy to have been able to be there and see my little granddaughter live her dream come true! She follows her Aunt and her Mommie in this and I hope to see her go as far as she wants. She was absolutely beautiful and one thing that was missing here was how proud her brothers were of her as well. They were so excited to see their “little Katie” dance and spin up on the stage. Great job little Katie and I can’t wait to come and see you do more.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s