An Angel’s Attitude
Every morning it is the same routine. She wakes up, gives
a big yawn, and heads downstairs in the same old uniform.
Not a glamorous job at all. Others might think that being a
ballerina instructor to be the perfect job or career. Dance,
stretch and teach others to dance and stretch their
imaginations. Remarkable lady this gal is however. She does
the same old thing but to her it always appears to be
somehow new – each and every single day. Don’t get me wrong
as she has her moments like I suppose we all do. She gets
frustrated over the little stuff. Seems the biggest
difference between this young woman and others that I have
observed is the way she takes life in stride. In a nutshell,
she just doesn’t let anything or anyone break her stride.
Like a beautiful mare dancing in the wide open spaces in a
dazzling display right after an equaling dazzling dawn,
nothing that might present itself as an obstacle can break
her stride. At least this is how it appears right now in her
dancing career.
Can I ask you a question? Don’t mean to be nosey or
anything, but what uniform do you put on everyday? Whether a
ballerina outfit or waitress uniform, I suppose any position
can lose its once highly esteemed luster after a bit. This
little ballerina, unlike so many others with differing
uniforms, can’t stand having to go to bed but can’t wait to
get out of it in the morning. She works from home, so she is
afforded the opportunity each Tuesday morning to gaze out of
her front storm door at the men who pick up her hurby-curby.
Kind of a drab, off green colored uniform these guys wear
from what I have seen, but she enjoys this special time at
the door as a highlight of her daily existence. She likes to
make their jobs less repetitive as she musters up a big
smile and gives them all a huge grin – all the while waving
like it might be her last chance to do so. Don’t get me
wrong because as we all know way too well, no one is perfect
and she’ll be the first to admit it. She says, “I’m sorry”
more regularly and with more sincerity than most I’ve met
six times her age.
Sometimes I can’t help but think that as soon as this or
that change in my life, all will be just a tad bit better. I
think that she has learned a powerful lesson and it has to
do with perception. The way she has chosen to perceive
things, is the way she receives things. She just hasn’t
allowed herself to see too many rainy days and Mondays, and
the ones she has, clearly haven’t ever ruined her morning,
afternoon, or evening routine. Those twice her age might be
creating some chaos around her, but again, it doesn’t seem
to break her stride. She just keeps on dancing nonetheless.
In talking to her recently, she speaks of her plans for the
future but even as she does she keeps some semblance of her
dancing going. If reminded of a mistake she made yesterday,
she’ll just give me a demure little smile as though I’m
purposefully trying to be a kill-joy. Hmmmmmm. I hadn’t
given that much thought until now, but why do I or any of us
rehash another’s past? Good question and this wise little
gal seems to know most of the answers. I guess longevity
doesn’t always equate to legitimacy.
I hope that she’ll keep her job as a ballerina for many
years to come so that I can keep learning simple life
lessons from her. But I doubt that she will if I look at the
big picture or project way into the future like I too often
tend to do. Nothing I could say or anything any of her other
best friends could say could break her stride. She is
destined for great things. Even if she changed from a
ballerina outfit to a waitress outfit 15 years from now, I
kind of think she’d keep her bright attitude, fresh
perspective, and unsophisticated purity.
Well, that’s all I have to write about for now. I best get
home before my wife helps her take off her ballerina uniform
and get ready for bed. If I’m so blessed, I’ll get to watch
her dance and sing for me right before I leave for work in
the morning. I wish I could take so many moments, and put
them in a jar. I wish I could stop the world from turning
and keep things just the way they are. I know that I can’t,
but I can always wish I could.
Love,
Brian
brianjett@chrysalishouse.org