This experience has been full of ups and downs, ins and outs. My friends, family, and even complete strangers have been extremely generous. I have received so many gifts and cards that I can't even begin to conquer those thank you cards. I will, I promise. Your thank you card is coming.
There is one gift that sticks out in my mind; the one that broke the camel's back per say. At dance, I am the one who takes your child and promises to return said child one hour later pointed, flexed, stretched, and danced until his or her little heart is content. I forget sometimes that these kids have been a part of my life and I a part of theirs for 3, 4, 5+ years. My wonderful dance moms and dads (not at all like those on television) have come to my side and have provided so much love and support during my time of need, it is completely overwhelming.
So here I am tonight, about to start class. Kids running around, mothers quietly trying to sneak out of the room, me struggling to find the CD that I didn't put away properly last week-you know, a normal start to any class. My little Bug, age 7, who has been in my class for four years quietly hands me an envelope. In my classic, multi-tasking manor, I open the envelope while I'm bellowing instructions and changing CD's. Ready for it. Here it is, spelling, grammar and all:
This money is for your doctor bills!
I fell sorry for you!
but I know you will get better soon.
you are the best!
Enclosed was a crumpled up mess of one dollar bills, obviously pulled from her personal piggy-banked stash. Here I have made it two full weeks telling my story to parents, answering questions from inquiring little minds, really keeping my act together, and this one handwritten note on a torn piece of notebook paper sets me over the edge. The tears just start rolling. I had to turn, breath, wipe and start the music so that things could all shake back to normal. She is seven years old.
I came straight home and wrote to her mother to make sure she knew what an amazing kid she had, as if she didn't already know. Once again I am reminded of the wonderful people I have been blessed to have as part of my crazy life. That note is now taped to my wall to remind me everyday what I am fighting for: for me, for my family, and for every little kid I have been fortunate enough to have in class. Thank you Bug for helping me fight just a little bit harder. Dance hard for Miss Ashley. I will be back before you know it!
Wed, February 13, 2013
by Kara Ward