The Beauty of a Waltz

Staring out her window she could not say exactly how it went. Every detail was not clear. In her mind, she now held dearly to the beauty and longevity of her story. “Yes my dear you did dance.”

To attend she made no plans, the thought never crossed her mind. It had been a whim, a spur of the moment attendance. A moment in which she had been taught the life altering fact; she really loved the dance.

She remembered how the hours had passed while she sat alone in the decorated gym. Of her smiling and waving to people as they passed and yet, not really wanting to be seen. Happy and content in the solitude of a bench, she watched couples swirl the night away. When from her left, she heard an unfamiliar voice.

”May I have this dance?” She turned slowly to face the voice. As her eyes met his, again he made the request. “Miss, may I have this dance?” She was looking deep into the eyes of a stranger.

The stranger, with the out stretched hand, was asking her to dance. The evening was near its end, “no harm in just one dance,” she thought. Raising her hand to meet the strangers, she replied, “yes” with a ladylike nod.

With his strong arm and gentle grip, he urged her to leave the bench. Standing face to face, eyes coy in gaze, a stance began to unfold. He, rising interlocked right hands to shoulder height while gingerly placing his left onto her waist; she in turn, placed her one freehand upon his shoulder. The stance was complete.

In their completed pose the music began to play. The first step was as though he would step around, then she felt his lead take hold. Her body it did follow. Step by step they glided along the floor. Traveling in a fluid motion, all reservations were now gone. Their eyes locked onto each other, magic was unleashed.

In the beauty of the motion, in the elegance of the stance, in the enchantment of the dance; came her memorable waltz. A waltz, which had encompassed a lifetime full of beautiful motion, simple elegance and an enchanted love.

Now some 70 years later, with the motion no longer full of beauty and the elegance of the stance a solitary one; her mind held tightly to the memory of the enchantment. It had been a lifetime of just one dance; a waltz.

Again she smiled and to herself she did say, “Yes my dear you did dance; a lovely, wonderful, waltz.”

I’m wishing you all the beauty of a dance; a waltz.

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