Nutcracker Ballet


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A wintry wonderland. Dancers in patterns and beauty of swirling snow. The Snow King is full of pizzazz and strength, and I take delight as I watch him. The Snow Queen is beauty incarnate, sparkling with all the glory of diamonds. Pairing, complementing each other, delighting in the wonder of this art form–ballet.

This is the Nutcracker. It’s been a part of my life since I was little. Three of my dear friends have been in this performance since we were little. I grew up with gingerbread houses, Christmas parties, and the silliness of childhood. I mingle in the crowd, listening to the high school choir above as I choose a sparkling tiara for myself. Even a woman in her early twenties, on her birthday, can still desire to be a princess.

Then it’s up, up, up the stairs to the row where my family and I will sit. And I remember…

Little mice–the beginning role. Mother Ginger’s children, full of impish spice. Angels among the mists, candles in hand. The Arabian doll in her feminine grace and mystery of the Middle East. Chinese Tea, with their oriental fans twirling over their shoulders and their hair in twin buns on either side of their head. The Flowers, beautiful in their rose-like beauty and long, flowing dresses. This ballet pieces have meaning to me. My friends were each of these roles.

This is the glory of Christmas. This is light and joy, love and peace. This is family. I sit with my mom, my dad, and my brother. Families with little children, older couples, and some young couples sit surrounding us. The little girls are dressed in beautiful, elegant dresses. They twirl at intermission, mimicking what they see on stage. Yes, yes. Take up the beauty of dance, I think. I know its wonder. This world of dance, of stages, of playing to the crowd and drawing energy and pizzazz from them–this is my world.

I claim this beauty for my own. This world may try its best to get me down, but I won’t let it. Christmas and the Nutcracker has renewed my spirit.



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