To Be A Dancer
A Touched by an
Angel story
By Kim Sisk (Kemara@aol.com)
DISCLAIMER: For the purpose of this story, I have taken liberties
with some aspects of Irish step dance. I have been dancing for three
years, but I am not an expert yet! :) Any blatant inaccuracies are my own
fault. Thanks to Meg and Kolya for their editing and suggestions. All
disclaimers apply.
The lilting notes of an Irish jig floated out into the parking lot.
Monica,
Tess and Andrew listened as they stood outside the dance
studio. A banner
over the door read, "O'Connor School of Irish
Dance".
"It's such a cheerful sound," Monica commented,
tapping her foot to the
rhythm.
Andrew nodded in
agreement. "Yeah, it makes you want to jump up and dance!"
he grinned,
doing a few shuffling steps. Monica laughed, shoving
him
playfully.
"Will you two angel babies ever grow up?"
Tess wondered aloud to no one in
particular, shaking her
head.
"I doubt it," Andrew replied, putting an arm around
Tess, "but you still love
us, right?"
"Of course I do."
Tess returned the hug, drawing in Monica too. "And speaking
of growing
up, our next assignment is a little girl who's had to grow up
very
quickly. But she still has the faith of a child. And that faith is
about to
be shattered unless we
help her."
Monica
gestured to the studio. "So she's a dancer, then?"
"She is,
but she's a very unusual one. You'll see what I mean when you
meet
her," Tess replied. "Now, lets get inside. It's too hot out here
for me."
One Child's Dream
The three angels walked through
the lobby and paused in the doorway to watch
for a moment. Girls and
boys filled the large mirrored room. Some stretched
on the floor, while
others laced up black leather shoes or practiced high
kicks at the
ballet barre
along the wall. In the center of the studio, five teenage
girls danced in
unison, their fiberglass-tipped shoes clacking in
perfect time with the
music. They finished in a flurry of clicking
heels and bowed to a smattering
of applause from their fellow
dancers.
"Hello. I'm Deirdre O'Connor." A young woman wearing
black leggings and an
O'Connor school t-shirt approached
them.
"Hello, I'm Monica. We spoke on the phone earlier about
a teaching position."
Monica liked Deirdre immediately. The petite
brunette radiated energy and
enthusiasm.
"Oh, yes!"
Deirdre shook hands. "I'm so glad you're here. I can really use
the
help."
Monica introduced Tess, and explained Andrew was a
physical therapist.
"If you're a physical therapist, I'll
have to introduce you to Sara." The
teacher nodded over to the barre,
where a girl of about 14 practiced the same
steps over and over,
ignoring everything else around her. The angels noticed
that her feet
turned in and her balance wobbled occasionally.
"Is she new?"
Monica asked sympathetically.
"No," Deirdre replied. "Sara
has been taking lessons for three years. She has
cerebral palsy in her
legs, but she loves to dance. I think she has more
heart than all of my
other students put together." She gave the teenager a
motherly
smile.
Deirdre led the visitors to some folding chairs where
they could sit down.
"Actually, she hasn't done too badly. She's placed
in three competitions. We
never dreamed she could get this far, but
she's really worked hard."
"Now Monica, let me see you
dance," Deirdre's voice was suddenly
businesslike, "I'll be doing most
of the teaching, but I'd like you to be
able to work one-on-one with
the students who are having trouble. And if you
could lead them in the
warm-ups before class, that would be a great help."
She
rummaged through a duffel bag and took out two pairs of shoes.
"These
should fit if you didn't bring your own."
Monica
smiled. "Actually, I did." She took a pair slippers from a green bag
on
the chair next to her. Only Tess and Andrew noticed that the bag had
not
been there a minute before.
"I'll get the music ready
for you then." Deirdre walked over to the stereo
and began looking
through CDs.
Monica laced the gillies, sending up a prayer of
thanks for the tights and
knee-length black skirt she wore. Otherwise
this could be very embarrassing,
she thought.
"Uh,
Monica?" Andrew looked wary, "are you sure you can do this? I mean,
you
have trouble singing....and dancing involves music......" He
trailed off as
Monica glared at him.
"I guess we'll just
have to find out." She stood and joined Deirdre at
the
stereo.
"Oh, Lord," Tess moaned, resisting the urge to
cover her eyes.
Andrew could only nod, and pray Monica
wouldn't do too badly.
After a quick consultation with
Deirdre, Monica walked to the center of the
floor. She stood straight
with her arms down by her sides, her feet turned
out. The dancers
settled down cross-legged against the wall to watch.
A quick
reel played on an accordion filled the studio and Monica began
to
dance. On her toes she turned and leaped effortlessly, her upper
body held
still while only her feet moved.
"Don't they
call Irish dancing 'the ice of the body and the fire of the
feet'?"
Andrew whispered to Tess.
Tess nodded silently, her
expression amazed.
After doing two steps of the reel Monica
pointed her toe and bowed to
Deirdre. The children clapped and whistled
in amazement.
"Very nice, Monica", Deirdre said approvingly.
"Let me see you do a treble
jig, if you would,
please."
Monica came back over to Andrew and Tess to change
into hard shoes with
fiberglass heels and toe tips.
"You
did good, Angel Girl," Tess complimented.
Monica tossed her
long red hair out of her face. "It's fun," she grinned. She
finished
buckling the shoes and went back out on the floor.
Her treble
jig was just as good as her reel. Now, she pounded out the beat as
tap
dancers do, adding toe stands and heel clicks for emphasis. As
before,
she finished with a bow after doing two
steps.
Deirdre joined in the applause. "Wonderful, Monica.
Children, this in Monica,
and she's going to be working as my
assistant. Everyone gather around, now. I
want to talk to you for a
minute about the Oireachtas. That's the regional
competition," Deirdre
explained for Tess and Andrew as the youngsters sat
down again
noisily.
"The Regionals are at the end of November," Deirdre
continued. "For those of
you who are new, let me explain how they
work. Its a two-day competition
where the best dancers compete. You
dance one hard shoe and one soft shoe. If
you get recalled, you'll
dance your nontraditional set piece that's
choreographed just for you.
Those who place will go on to Ireland for the
World Championships in
April." She paused to allow the chatter to die down.
"I suppose you'd
like to know who's going?" she teased.
"Tell us!" Kathleen,
one of the older girls, was practically shaking
with
excitement.
Deirdre took out a sheet of paper from
her folder. "Those of you in six and
eight hand figure teams will being
going, as well as the 13 and under girls
ceili. We have four solo
dancers this year: Jennifer McKay, Sara Porter,
Kathleen Shannon, and
Megan Johnson."
"Why is she going?" one girl asked, glaring
at Sara, "she's just in Novice."
Deirdre sighed. "Because she
works hard and she deserves this chance. You
know Novice dancers
compete all the time. I believe you were in Novice at
your first
Regionals. Right?"
"Yeah. I didn't place either," the girl
muttered sullenly.
"I might not place, but I want to try,"
Sara said, forcing a smile.
"And that's all anyone can ask,
Sara, that you do your best. That goes for
all of you. Do you best and
have fun." Deirdre grinned. "we're all winners
here!"
The
dancers cheered and began gathering up their things.
Sara
unbuckled her shoes, her face downcast.
"Hey, cheer up,
Thumper! We'll sweep the medals at Regionals. I'll call you
tonight."
Jennifer, Sara's best friend, picked up her purple shoe bag and
hurried
out the door.
"Bye, Jennifer!" Sara waved, but as soon as the
other girl left, her smile
faded.
Monica walked over to
her. "They call you Thumper?"
"Yeah, because my feet spasm
sometimes. Jennifer says it reminds her of that
rabbit, Thumper, from
Bambi, pounding his foot on the ground to warn his
friends of danger."
Sara sighed. "usually I don't mind when they call
me
that."
"Why do you love dancing so much?" Monica asked
gently, joining her on the
floor. "It must be very hard
sometimes."
Sara glanced at Monica. "I'll tell you, if you
promise not to laugh." When
Monica nodded, she went on. "Well, the
first time I went to a competition I
did two dances. In the first one I
almost fell right there on stage. It was
so embarrassing!" Her cheeks
flushed and it was a moment before she
continued. "But when I started
my jig, everything changed. It felt like
someone held me up. I had no
control over my body. I remember watching myself
dance and thinking,
'is this me?'. I placed third, and I've never danced so
well since. I
think my guardian angel helped me. So, after that I decided to
dance
just for God, to thank Him for all He's done for me." Sara
laughed
shakily. "I know you think I'm crazy, but that's how I
feel."
Monica's eyes filled with tears. "No Sara, I think
it's a beautiful gift, and
so does God."
The girl smiled.
"I hope so. If I place high in the Regionals, I can dance at
the World
Championships in Ireland. That's my dream. That's what I pray for
every
night."
"We'll do everything we can to help you get there."
Even as she spoke, Monica
prayed silently: "Father, show us
how!"
Monica beckoned to Tess and Andrew. "Sara, these are my
friends, Andrew and
Tess."
"Will you let me look at your
legs?" Andrew asked Sara, "I'm a physical
therapist."
"I
haven't been to PT since I was six," Sara replied, taking off her
socks.
"The doctors said I could have an operation to make my legs the
same length,
but I don't have time to do that right
now."
"Well, I can think of a few things that might help
you." Andrew manipulated
her foot carefully, flexing it up and down.
"Have you ever heard of a drug
called Botox?"
"No, what
does it do?"
"It's an injection that relaxes the muscles," he
replied. "each injection
lasts for about three weeks. During that time
you go to therapy to stretch
the muscles and tendons while they're
loose. When the injections are stopped,
the affected muscles aren't so
tight."
"Can I try it?" Sara asked
hopefully.
"I'll talk to your doctor and your parents. Maybe
we can work something out."
Hard Work
Over the next few
months Sara began a regimen of Botox injections and
physical therapy
with Andrew. The stretching sessions were torture.
"I can't
do it, Andrew! It hurts too much!" Sara wiped away tears.
"I
know it hurts, honey, but you have to keep trying. We don't have
much
time." Andrew was patient and gentle, pushing her a little further
each day.
As her legs improved, Sara learned she could go far
beyond the limits she had
placed for herself and her confidence soared.
With Deirdre and Monica's help,
she began working on her dances for the
Regional competition and together
they created a hornpipe set dance for
her. The set, performed to a specific,
or set tune, showcased a
dancer's individual strengths and talents.
"I don't think
we'll worry about putting in frills like toe stands and
clicks,"
Deirdre mused one Saturday in September. "You'll do better
with
something simple and elegant."
Monica stood. "How
about this?" She performed a series of steps, adding
double shuffles
and sideways jumps which Sara did particularly well.
"I can
do that!" Sara copied her excitedly.
"Good!" Deirdre
exclaimed. "Let's see what else we can come up with....."
The
Dress
As September faded into October, practice for the Oireachtas
increased.
Besides preparing new dances, the competitors bought new
costumes as well.
Solo dresses costing hundreds of dollars arrived from
Ireland, and the girls
modeled them excitedly. Because Sara was only in
Novice, she had no solo
dress, and her parents could not afford
one.
"I don't mind," the girl told Monica one day as they
watched Jennifer
practice in her new red and navy costume. "My parents
have been so wonderful
about paying for my lessons and shoes, not to
mention the medicine. My school
dress will be
fine."
Though she spoke bravely, the angels could tell Sara
badly wanted a special
dress of her own. They began to pray. Two weeks
later they gathered around
Sara after a lesson.
"Sweetie,
you've worked so hard, we decided you needed a reward." Tess winked
as
Monica came in carrying a blue dress bag.
Sara looked at it,
puzzled. "Is that for me?"
Monica unzipped the bag and held
up a dress for Sara to see. It was dark
purple velvet with Celtic
knotwork embroidered in blue, white and sliver.
White satin lined the
skirt and sleeves. On the front panel, a dove shone in
white thread,
wings outstretched. The sliver trimmed cape showed a Celtic
cross sewn
in blue.
"It's beautiful!" Sara gasped. She took the dress
from Monica and ran a
shaking hand over the soft fabric. "Where did you
get it? It must've cost a
fortune."
Andrew smiled. "It's
from a friend of ours. He knows all about you and how
hard you've
worked. He wanted you to have it as a present."
Sara began to
cry, laughing through her tears. "Will you tell him I said
thank
you?"
Tess pulled her into a hug. "He already knows, Baby. He
already knows."
At the Regionals
During Thanksgiving weekend, the group from the
O'Connor school arrived at
the Crowne Plaza where the Regionals would
be held over two days. Monica and
Sara shared a room, as Sara's parents
had been unable to afford the trip.
After they unpacked, Sara
hurried down the hall to Deirdre's room which was
crowded with dancers.
Jennifer immediately set about rolling Sara's long hair
on bright foam
curlers.
"I look like a porcupine!" Sara laughed looking in the
mirror.
"We all do!" Jennifer replied, admiring the neon green
spikes on her own
head.
Monica showed up with Sara's shoe bag
just as Jennifer secured the last
curler.
"OK! You go on down and
practice. I'll be there in a little while."
Deirdre called out over
the chaos. "Practice downstairs in the "A" ballroom
in an hour! Anyone
who is late will not dance tomorrow. We'll go over figures
and a few
solos if we have time."
Andrew met Monica and Sara in the hall and
the three went downstairs
together. The huge ballroom had been set up
with a with a wooden floor
surrounded by chairs for tomorrow's
competition. A few other dancers milled
around, getting used to the
stage.
Sara changed into her gillies and Andrew helped her go
through some simple
exercises to warm up her muscles.
"Nothing
strenuous," he warned her. "I don't want you going all out and
hurting
yourself."
Sara took a few hopping steps around the floor. "I hope
they put on rosin
tomorrow. It's slippery already."
"Let's just
try a beginner reel and see how you do," Monica suggested,
joining her.
They held hands and danced the simple piece through a few times
until
Sara was panting.
"That's enough," she made her way to a chair.
"Let me sit down a minute."
Andrew handed her a bottle of water.
"Here, drink this. You're nervous and
that makes it harder." He
massaged her calves. "It's a good thing we could
practice tonight.
You'll be more relaxed in the morning."
"Yeah, right," Sara
muttered crossly.
Andrew pretended to pout. "Hey, would I lie to
you? You'll be fine."
"Look at them." Sara gestured to two dancers
from the Sullivan school who
were practicing a complicated treble jig.
"My stuff looks like baby dances
next to theirs."
Monica sat
down beside her. "Sara, you know that Deirdre decided it would
be
better if you did simple dances very well than to try something
too
difficult."
"I know, but I wish I could do all that fancy
stuff. I can't even click my
heels," Sara remarked gloomily as one girl
performed triple clicks to finish
her routine.
"Focus on what
you can do, not what you can't," Monica instructed her.
"What you can
do, you do nicely. Now, let's see your hornpipe."
Even Sara
admitted that her set dance was good. The tune was "King of
the
Fairies", a haunting, slow piece that called for good rhythm and
perfect
timing. Sometimes Sara liked to pretend she was Bernadette
Flynn dancing to
this same song in Feet of Flames. Tonight though, the
excitement of actually
being at the Regionals left her no need to
pretend.
Tess sang the tune for her, and expected Sara to be able
to do the same. "It
will help you concentrate your timing," she
said.
As Sara finished up, the O'Connor group came in with Deirdre
who was carrying
a stereo. As Deirdre and the Sullivan school teacher
conferred about music,
their students changed into soft
shoes.
"OK," Mary Sullivan clapped her hands. "We'll start with a
reel and go from
there." She put in a CD.
The song began and
dancers filled the large stage, leaping, turning and
kicking in every
direction. Sara looked a little frightened of the tumult.
"Sara,
let's go!" Deirdre called, walking over.
Sara hesitantly stepped
into the crowd of dancers and waited for her cue,
trying not to get
hit.
"Will she be alright?" Monica asked as Sara narrowly avoided
being kicked
and run into.
"Oh, this is easy compared to
tomorrow," Deirdre assured her. "She'll only
have one other
person onstage with her then, but she won't be able to hide
any
mistakes. This teaches the kids to keep their eyes open, and gets
them
using the stage. Judges like to see that."
A graceful
slip jig followed the reel and Sara took advantage of the lull
to
change into her hard shoes.
"That was crazy!" she exclaimed,
wrapping loops of elastic around her feet
to keep the shoes tight. "I
thought I was going to get brained, or stepped
on."
"You'll just
have to live up to your nickname and bounce out of the way like
a
rabbit," Jennifer laughed.
Practice for the treble jig and hornpipe
was done with three dancers at a
time because the risk of injury was
greater if someone happened to get kicked
by mistake.
When all
the solos had danced, Deirdre dismissed them so the teams could
have
the stage.
"I want every one of you in bed by 10:00.
Tomorrow's a busy day. Meet me in
the lobby at 8:00 to sign in and pick
up your numbers. And girls, when you're
not dancing, make sure you wear
a smock over your costume. Those dresses cost
alot of money, but one
hot dog can ruin them."
The group laughed at this, and headed back
to their rooms.
"Think we'll sleep at all?" Sara asked as
Jennifer opened her door.
Jennifer gave a huge yawn. "I know I
will. I'm beat. See you in the morning."
Morning came soon
enough.
Monica helped Sara with her dress, pinning the cape at the
left shoulder and
right hip with sterling silver Tara brooches.
Together they stood in front of
the mirror and admired the effect.
Rhinestones on the skirt and sleeves
glittered. The purple velvet set
off Sara's light skin. Monica carefully
applied heavy makeup to the
girl's face so her complexion would not wash out
under the bright
lights.
Sara gathered up her bag and they hurried down to the
lobby.
"There. You look lovely." Monica pinned a matching velvet
headband to Sara's
light brown hair. Long spiral curls flowed down her
back, held with a white
satin scrunchie behind the purple
crown.
Sara grimaced. "I don't feel lovely. I feel
terrified."
"You'll do great," Andrew assured her. He tweaked her
nose playfully and she
managed a tiny smile.
Tess hurried up.
"Now, let's hear you sing your set dance one more time,
just to make
sure you haven't forgotten it."
"I could do it in my sleep," Sara
complained. "Sing it, I mean, not dance
it."
"Now you stop
talking like that! I know you can sing and dance it too. So
let's hear
it." Tess raised an eyebrow.
With an exasperated sigh Sara launched
into "King of the Fairies", her hands
moving as she danced the hornpipe
in her mind.
"Very nice," Tess told her when she
finished. "Why don't we go find a
seat?"
The competitions were
being held in two ballrooms on the main floor of the
hotel. The "A"
ballroom, where they had practiced the previous night was
crowded with
spectators and dancers in brightly colored costumes.
Joining
Deirdre, the angels and Sara watched the O'Connor Under 13 ceili
team
compete "The Three Tunes". The girls, all 11 years old, took third
place.
Considering they had never competed at such a high level before,
it was quite
an achievement.
"You see what hard work can do?"
Andrew whispered to Sara as the team
accepted their trophy amid loud
cheers.
'Yes," Sara replied, her cheeks flushed with
excitement.
"You're up next, honey," Deirdre pointed to the board
which showed the next
competitions.
Sara took a deep breath to
control her nerves, and stood up. "Well, this is
it."
With hugs of
support, Monica, Tess and Andrew watched her go with Jennifer to
sign
in.
"They place three dancers and one alternate," Deirdre told
them. "If one
girl can't compete, then the alternate gets to go. Sara's
competition has
five dancers. Someone won't place at all." She didn't
have to say what they
were all thinking. Sara was that
someone.
"Does she have any chance?" Monica watched Sara stretching
at the side of
the stage.
"It'll take a miracle for that child
to win," Tess replied. She raised her
eyes to Heaven, "Father, we sure
could use one."
"Amen," Andrew said softly. His heart ached for all
the pain Sara had
endured just for this moment, and it wouldn't
be enough.
"Competition 7, girls 14 and under, to the stage
please," the announcer
called out.
"They'll do a reel and a
treble jig. Those who are recalled will dance a
hornpipe for their
set," Deirdre murmured as the five girls lined up across
the back of
the wooden floor
The dancers performed two at a time. The odd
number meant that the last girl
would dance alone, a stressful
position. Deirdre nodded when she saw Sara in
the second pair.
"God please be with her," she whispered.
Sara danced very well. Her
steps were elementary compared to those of the
other girls, but her
precise technique, sense of timing and bright smile set
her apart. When
she bowed, the O'Connor group let out a huge cheer and
clapped till
their hands hurt.
The fifth girl was Sara's best friend,
Jennifer. She was confident, knowing
she had the adjudicators'
undivided attention.
She danced brilliantly, feet flying, legs very
straight. She leaped high in
the air, seeming to hover like a bird for
a split second. As she landed, her
foot slipped. The audience heard the
sickening crack even above the music, as
her ankle
snapped.
Jennifer screamed in pain and fell to the floor, clutching
her foot. Deirdre
rushed to her side. With the help of two fathers they
carried Jennifer out of
the room. When she passed them, Monica placed a
gentle hand on her shoulder
and the child's sobs quieted as her pain
eased.
For a few minutes the spectators milled about uncertainly,
talking about the
accident. Then an official came forward. "The
adjudicators are asked to score
competition 7 with four competitors. We
will continue with competition 13,
boys 9 and under." An assistant
sprinkled rosin on the floor so no one else
would slip.
Sara
came over to the three angels, her face white. "Will Jennifer be
OK?"
she asked, holding back tears.
"She'll be fine." Deirdre
answered, making her way back through the crowd.
"But that ankle's
definitely broken. She won't be able to dance on it any
time soon.
They've taken her to the hospital to set it and for x-rays."
She
hugged Sara. "You did a fantastic job! I'm so proud of you. If you
do
that well for your jig, you'll be on your way to
Ireland."
"What happens now that Jennifer is out of the
competition?" Monica wanted to
know as Sara hurried off to change out
of her gillies.
Deirdre sighed. "Well, now there are four dancers
instead of five which gives
Sara the alternate spot at the moment. They
may decide to place all four. It
just depends."
"So she is going
to the Worlds, then?" Andrew asked.
"Yes," Deirdre replied. "Unless
she gets hurt she's going."
Tess looked puzzled. "You don't sound
too happy about it."
"I'm just worried about what will happen when
Sara gets to Dublin and
discovers the competition is way over her head.
I'd hate to see it destroy
her self-esteem after she's gotten this
far."
"We'll worry about that when the time comes," Tess told her.
"All we can do
now is pray."
Deirdre smiled, "You're right,
Tess. Thank you."
Sara ate lunch with the three angels in the hotel restaurant, while
they
waited for the first round of competition to finish. To distract
the
teenager, Andrew told silly jokes that kept them all
laughing.
After eating, they browsed the vendors set up in the
lobby. Monica insisted
on buying Sara a pair of silver buckles for her
hard shoes. "They match your
dress," she remarked.
Back in the
ballroom, Deirdre helped Sara place duct tape on the bottoms of
her
hard shoes.
"Now, that should give you better traction," she tore
off one last piece.
"Remember to hop straight back behind so you don't
loose your balance. I
don't want you falling too."
"I won't; I
promise." Sara grinned, feeling no hint of nervousness.
'Good
girl," Deirdre hugged her. "I see Kathleen over there. Why don't you
go
warm up with her?"
"Thanks, Miss O'Connor". Sara ran off in a
clatter of noise.
Deirdre shook her head. "I feel a headache coming
on already." The three
angels laughed and Andrew handed her a couple of
Advil.
Sara did not fall, although her treble jig gave her some
problems. Once her
foot skidded, but she recovered to finish strong.
For a girl with a limp and
turned in feet, it was a
triumph.
"Yes!" Deirdre leaped to her feet along with the rest of
the audience.
Sara's disability had become well known over the weekend,
gaining her many
admirers.
Sara hurried over, her face glowing.
"I thought I was done for when I
slipped," she gasped.
"You kept
your composure very well," Monica complimented, as they made room
for
the teenager to sit down.
"Look! They're going to tell who got
recalled," Sara whispered eagerly
A woman with a clip board came
out in the middle of the dance floor and
motioned for quiet.
"We
have the results for the first two rounds of Competition 7, girls 14
and
Under. The following dancers will be recalled tomorrow afternoon
for the
final round: Sharon Massey, Katie Donealy, Theresa Bell, and
Sara Porter."
Sara flung her arms around Deirdre. "We all got
recalled!"
"I knew you could do it!" Deirdre's bright smile showed
no hint of worry.
'Why don't you get changed, and rest for a while
before dinner? I know
you're tired."
Sara nodded. "Now that you
mention it, I am kind of beat."
Monica helped her gather up her
things and they walked back to their room
together. While Sara changed,
Monica tidied up the room which looked like a
tornado had been through
it.
"I want to go see Jennifer," Sara said coming out of the
bathroom. She had
changed into jeans and an O'Connor school sweatshirt,
but her hair was still
curled. Monica could see dark circles under her
eyes, even with the heavy
makeup.
"You need to lie down," Monica
told her. "Otherwise you'll be too tired to
dance your set for the
recall tomorrow."
"I will later, but I need to talk to her. Please,
Monica," Sara pleaded.
Monica understood. "I'll take
you."
At the hospital they learned Jennifer was being held
overnight for x-rays and
observation. Her mother told them that
although the break was serious,
doctors had decided against
operating.
While Monica waited in the hallway, Sara went quietly
into Jennifer's private
room. Her friend was awake and watching
TV.
"Hi! Congratulations!" Jennifer hugged her carefully, and Sara
pulled up a
chair.
For a moment they said nothing, each lost in
her own thoughts.
"You should've won," Sara told her finally, "not
me."
"No, I deserved to fall." Jennifer hesitated. "About a week
ago I decided to
try loosing a few pounds before the Regionals. I
skipped a few meals and
practiced instead." She looked sheepish.
"Stupid, I know, but I didn't think
it would matter. When I go
up
this morning I felt lightheaded but I figured it was just nerves.
I
should've realized I was too weak to dance."
"I'm sorry, Jen."
Sara leaned over and took her hand.
"So, I'm glad you've got a
chance," Jennifer continued, smiling. "I hope
you go to Ireland and
kick butt!"
The two girls laughed, but Sara quickly sobered. "I'm
just the alternate,
right now. I still have to dance my set
tomorrow."
"You'll get the alternate automatically, don't worry. Go
to Dublin and have
a good time...check out all those guys in
kilts!"
That sent them off in another giggling fit, until the nurse
looked in.
"Sorry to interrupt your fun, but Jennifer needs to go
down for a few more
x-rays."
Sara stood. "I'll let you know how
it goes," she told her friend.
"I want pictures!" Jennifer said as
the nurse wheeled her out of the room.
Sara joined Monica in the
hallway. "Thanks for bringing me, Monica. Let's go
before I fall asleep
standing up."
The Finals
Sara slept uneasily despite being so
tired. She woke in the middle of the
night unable to get back to sleep
no matter how much she tossed and turned.
"Sara?"
"Oh,
Monica. I'm sorry I woke you up."
Monica got up and sat on the edge
of Sara's bed. "That's alright. Is
something bothering
you?"
Sara almost said no, but suddenly she found herself telling
Monica
everything. "I didn't want it to be this way! I wanted to go to
Ireland
because I was good, not because someone else got hurt. I wanted
to earn it!"
Angry tears started down her face.
Monica brushed
them away and put a comforting arm around her. "Sara, you have
worked
so hard for this. If anyone deserves to win, you do. You haven't
let
your disability stop you, and that's really something to be proud
of no
matter how you place in Ireland. In God's eyes you have earned
it. Remember
that."
"Really?"
"Yes," Monica assured
her. "Now, you get some rest. Morning will be here
before you know it."
She tucked Sara in and kissed her forehead lightly.
"Sleep
well."
The next morning found Sara in the ballroom at 8:00. She had
come down right
after breakfast to watch the younger girls dance their
final round. Her own
competition would not come until late that
afternoon.
As she watched, she thought about the changes of the
past few months. The
arrival of Monica, Tess and Andrew had been a
turning point in her life. Her
dancing had improved tremendously, and
her confidence soared. "Thank you,
Father, for giving me so many
gifts", she prayed.
Behind her, unseen, Monica, Tess and Andrew
shared a smile.
Sara's competition was next to last. For the set,
each dancer was alone
onstage and could use the entire floor. One by
one the other girls danced.
Sara was last. As she walked out, the
announcer called out the title of her
set along with the metronome
speed.
"King of the Fairies at 114."
Because she knew the
music by heart, Sara could concentrate more on her style
and technique.
She focused on pointing her toes, and getting out strong, loud
trebles.
She would have to impress the judges with clean, simple
dancing,
instead of difficult steps.
She surrendered to the
music and let herself go. She forgot about the judges,
and just danced
for the sheer joy of it. Sara finished with a stamp, and
bowed to the
musicians. To her surprise, the audience leaped to their feet in
a
standing ovation.
Sara made her way back over to her friends and
sat down weakly. "I think I'm
going to faint." She felt Andrew put a
supporting arm around her, and someone
handed her a water
bottle.
"Sara? Are you OK?" Deirdre and Monica looked
worried.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just give me a minute," Sara tried to
get her breath
back.
Kathleen hurried up to them. "Sara, I have
never seen you dance like that!
You were fantastic!" Other spectators
murmured in agreement.
"I did pretty good, didn't I?" Sara asked
wonderingly.
"Yes, you did, baby." Tess answered
proudly.
The final competition was the treble reel. All the
competitors stood in a
line and danced one step in turn. In honor of
the holiday season, the
musicians played Jingle Bells and everyone
clapped to the beat.
The awards ceremony was the highlight of the
weekend. The winners received a
sash, trophy, and for some
competitions, Irish crystal. For Sara's
competition the dancers were
awards starting with the lowest place and ending
with
first.
Sara sat clutching Deirdre's hand, waiting for the
results.
"Fourth place goes to....."
Sara began to stand up,
but the next words froze her in the chair.
".....Katie
Donealy."
Sara heard a roaring in her ears, then she realized it
was the sound of
applause.
"Third place......Sara
Porter."
Sara was crying so hard they had to help her onto the
podium. Through her
tears she could see Deirdre, Tess, Monica and
Andrew beaming. Someone put a
blue sash over her head and handed her a
trophy. It all had the quality of a
dream even as flashbulbs
popped.
After the awards had been given out all the winners were
called back up for
the Parade of Champions. The dancers took turns
doing one step of a reel,
then all joined hands to dance
together.
Through it all, one phrase echoed in Sara's mind: Thank
you God.
To Ireland
Sara's excitement after the Oireachtas knew no bounds.
When she wasn't
practicing, she watched the 1994 video of the World
Championships over and
over. She was surprised to find that she could
do many of the same steps as
the winners. Deirdre did not tell her that
Irish dancing had become more
complicated, and steps that were once
Championship level could now be done by
those in Novice.
"I
don't want to discourage her," Deirdre told Monica and Tess as
they
waited for Sara to finish physical therapy with
Andrew.
"Yeah, she's really thrilled," Tess grinned at Sara's
determination.
"You are coming with us, right?" Deirdre asked
anxiously. "I don't know
what Sara would do without you
three."
Monica and Tess traded meaningful glances
"Yes,"
Monica replied. "We wouldn't miss it."
In April a huge group from
the O'Connor school saw them off at the airport
with banners and
balloons. Someone brought a penny whistle and the ceili team
danced a
quick jig while everyone clapped.
"Come on, Sara! Get out there!"
Jessica called from where she watched in her
wheelchair.
Sara
blushed but she quickly gave in to the excitement, showing off part
of
her treble jig, and even improvising on it.
The overnight
flight to Dublin on Aer Lingus took 7 hours, and Sara surprised
herself
by dropping right off to sleep after dinner. The next morning as
they
flew low over Ireland, she looked down at the green hills and
cried with
happiness.
"I never thought I'd see it," she sobbed
to Monica. Jessica also had tears
in her eyes.
"It is beautiful,
isn't it?" Monica agreed, admiring the stone walls below.
"You're
Irish, aren't you?" Jessica asked her
Monica hesitated. "Well, not
exactly....."
Jessica turned back to the window. "I guess everyone
is, a little bit."
Smiling to herself, Monica did not
reply.
Sara had never seen anything like the Burlington Hotel in
Dublin. It was the
largest hotel in Ireland with 500 rooms, lavishly
decorated. A huge banner
proclaimed that this was the site for the
"Oireachtas Rince Na Cruinne", the
World Championships. Dancers from
the British Isles, North America, and
Australia had all gathered for
two weeks of competition over Easter.
Although Sara's competition
wasn't for a week, the Under 13 ceili team would
dance for the first
time on Wednesday. Deirdre and Monica spent most of their
waking hours
rehearsing them, leaving Sara to spend time with Andrew
and
Tess.
They had fun shopping on Grafton Street, and
Sara danced in a pub one night
to the accompaniment of a traditional
band. The local people were impressed
with her courage and promised to
come to the Burlington the following Monday
to watch her
compete.
Wednesday, the little girls' ceili team placed fourth out
of seven schools.
They laughed and vowed to come back next year to do
even better. Sara admired
their pluck. "I wonder if I could say the
same", she thought.
This time Sara had 11 dancers in her
competition, instead of three as at the
Regionals. She watched the
other girls practice with a sinking feeling in
her
stomach.
"They're all in Open Championships," she whispered
to Monica Sunday
afternoon. "That's the highest level in Irish dancing.
I'm dead meat."
Monica smiled at her dramatics. "Don't say that.
All you can do is your
best. We think you're a winner."
"Yeah,
you and who else?" Sara muttered darkly, but she did
stop
complaining.
"How's she doing?" Andrew watched as Sara did
a few leaps across the
ballroom set aside for a practice
space.
"She's worried," Monica replied. "She can't help seeing that
the other
girls are much better dancers than she is. It's a shame,
Andrew, after she's
worked so hard." Monica held back
tears.
Andrew patted her hand. "Yeah, I know.....I
know."
Monday morning Sara found the angels and Deirdre in the
hotel restaurant at
breakfast.
"Look at my shoes," she told
them, holding the pair soles up. The fiberglass
tip on the right shoe
was very thin from use. By contrast, the left one
looked brand new. "I
can't dance in these. No wonder my balance is so bad."
"I see what
you mean," Deirdre commented, checking the shoes over. "But
Sara, it
takes a long time to break in new shoes, and with your
problems....."
She trailed off.
Sara refused to be swayed. "I didn't have any
trouble breaking in this pair."
Deirdre sighed. "Andrew, Monica?
What do you think?"
"Well, Sara does have a point about them
affecting her balance. We don't
have time to have this pair retipped
before this afternoon." Andrew tried to
be diplomatic. "At the same
time, I think new shoes could cause a problem,
but it's up to Sara
."
Monica nodded in agreement.
"Sara, I really think you
should wait until after your competition, but it's
your decision."
Deirdre sighed. "You know how you feel, so I
won't
interfere."
Sara began having second thoughts, but she
didn't want to admit it. "Can we
go find some new ones?"
The
adults stood up. "Yeah," Andrew said. "Let's go."
At the Rutherford
booth Sara tried on several pairs of hard shoes. They
finally settled
on a pair with back straps for added support. Sara
particularly liked
how the new shoe design made it easier for her to click
her heels. She
wanted to practice in them, but Deirdre hurried her
into
gillies.
"Your reel is in an hour," the teacher cautioned.
"Practice makes perfect,
you know."
While she wasn't perfect,
Sara held her own against stiff competition and
older dancers in the
girls' reel. She admitted to being disoriented by the
high stage. "One
misstep and you're in the audience!" she laughed
afterwards.
"I
like these new hard shoes," she continued, strapping them on. "They
feel
comfortable. I'm gonna go practice my jig." She picked up her bag
and
hurried out of the ballroom.
"Andrew, does it look
like Sara's limp has gotten worse?" Deirdre asked
when the teen was out
of earshot.
Andrew shook his head. "Yeah, but I don't think it has
to do with her CP."
"You think...." Monica didn't finish,
almost afraid that voicing the words
would make them
true.
"Yeah, I do."
From the beginning of her treble jig
it was clear that Sara was in trouble.
"What's wrong with her?"
Monica asked in alarm. Sara danced as though she
were in terrible pain,
with no hint of a smile.
"I don't know," Deirdre replied, worried.
"She hasn't made any technical
mistakes, but something's not
right."
Sara managed to finish the dance, but as she walked
backwards to make her
second bow, she nearly fell.
"Oh, my God,"
Deirdre watched as Sara stumbled down from the stage. The girl
shook,
trying to hold back sobs. Tess led her over to a quiet corner away
from
prying eyes.
Monica knelt and unbuckled Sara's new shoes. As she
eased them off, they saw
blood staining the left sock. On Sara's heel
oozed a large broken blister
where the tough leather had dug
in.
"Oh, Sara. Why didn't you tell us?" Deirdre whispered, as
Andrew dug through
the first aid kit for a bandage and
ointment.
Sara raised her head, eyes red and swollen. "You didn't
think I should get
them in the first place," she gasped. "I didn't want
to say you were right
after you spent all that money."
Monica
held Sara still as Andrew cleaned the wound and covered it.
"That
didn't matter," the Irish angel said. "You still should've told
us. We
would rather you had said something than get hurt like
this."
"I'm sorry," Sara choked out.
Andrew finished tending
to Sara's foot and picked her up in his arms.
"You've got a nasty sore,
there. You'll be lucky if it doesn't get
infected." He carried her to
her room while the others followed. "Wear your
sneakers for the next
few days, until it
eals. And no dancing!"
Sara gulped. "Yes
Sir."
"OK. We'll leave you with Monica to get changed." He ushered
Tess and
Deirdre out and shut the door.
Twenty minutes later
Sara and Monica came back downstairs where Tess, Andrew
and Deirdre
waited. As a group they went back in the ballroom. Deirdre
reached over
and took Sara's hand, holding it tightly.
As they feared, Sara's
name wasn't on recall list. Forced to accept her
defeat for the first
time, Sara did the only thing she could think of. She
ran out of the
room.
Broken Dreams
"Sara, wait!" Andrew yelled after her, but
the girl did not look back.
Sara ran blindly, her heel throbbing,
until she came to St. Brendan's
Catholic church where she had attended
Mass that Sunday. She pushed open the
wooden door and went inside. She
knelt in a pew and tried to pray, but no
words came.
"I'm so
sorry, Father". Sara put her face in her hands and cried. "I let
You
down," she sobbed. "I was going to win for You, but I
failed."
"No Sara. You didn't fail."
"Leave me alone,
Monica." Sara turned away miserably. "I don't want to talk
right
now."
"You don't need to talk, baby. You just need to
listen."
"Tess?" Sara lifted her head. "Andrew? What's going
on?"
The three glowed with heavenly light in the darkened church.
"We're angels,
Sara," Andrew replied. "sent by God to be with you at
just this moment."
Sara nodded slowly. "I think, deep down I knew
that you were. My life has
been so wonderful since you showed up." She
smiled sadly. "You know, there's
this verse from the Bible that I love.
It's where Jesus' disciples ask if a
man has sinned and been punished
with blindness. Jesus tells them that the
man was born that way so that
God's works could be shown in him," Sara
sighed. "I thought that if I
could win that would really encourage people and
show what God can
do."
"Sara do you remember what you said about wanting to dance
just for God?"
Monica asked.
"Yes." Sara felt uneasy,
remembering her defiant attitude.
"Well, He is very proud of you
right now," Monica continued.
Sara interrupted angrily. "How can He
be? I lost and I did something
stupid!"
"You did not lose!" Tess
answered sternly. "You may not have gotten that
gold medal, but you did
the best you could. God doesn't care if you have a
hundred medals, he
just cares about you."
"And as for making the wrong decision,"
Monica added, "God knows that you
will make mistakes. He gave you gift
of free will, so that you could learn
from them. And what have you
learned, Sara?" she asked gently.
Sara gazed at the crucifix over
the altar. "That I should trust him."
"You did dance for His glory,
Sara," Andrew told her. "He wants you to know
it was the best gift you
could have given Him, a gift of love from your
heart." The angel of
death smiled. "And you have certainly encouraged
many
people."
Monica handed Sara a glossy
magazine.
"Irish Dancing Magazine?" Sara asked staring at the
cover.
"Look on page 12," Tess suggested.
"Disabled Girl
Shows true Irish Spirit. Irish dancer Sara Porter won third
place at
the Southern Regional Championships in December," Sara read
aloud.
"Such an achievement is amazing in the dance world considering
that 14
year-old Sara has Cerebral Palsy in her legs. Her success has
drawn the
attention of dance therapists and teachers all over the
United States.
'She's shown that people with disabilities can do
whatever they set their
minds too. She's a real inspiration," said her
teacher, Deirdre O'Connor."
Sara wiped away her tears. "Wow. I had
no idea....."
"Believe it, baby." Tess hugged her.
Sara
spoke up again in the quiet of the church. "So Andrew? When do we get
to
see you dance?"
The huge church rang with the laughter of
angels.
~The End~
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