My Little Ballerina

Rushing Mackenzie to her ballet class this afternoon, I glanced at her in the rear view mirror. Her hair up in a bun, wearing pink shoes, pink tights and a pink leotard, she was grinning from ear to ear unable to contain her excitement about class.

My mind flashed back to 29 years ago when I was her age. Dance was a big part of my life for a very long time. I LOVED dancing and when my parents pulled me out of it in middle school I was devasted. My favorites were tap and jazz classes and apparently as I got older, the dances became more provocative . I remember my parents saying to me, "We think you know how to shake your tail well enough." If I could, I would be dancing still.

As I watched my little angel gather with her fellow ballerinas, I wondered how time had passed so fast. Am I really old enough to have a child doing the things I remember doing myself? I don't think of myself as being old enough for this, does she?

Even though it's tough to be reminded that I am not as young as I used to be, it's wonderful to remember how fun it was to be little. What a gift it is to be able to share that with my own flesh and blood.