A Whirling Tornado – Pointe shoes

Perhaps she felt as though she was graceful.
When she put on those shoes.
Or maybe at home, she was a quiet breeze, but when she put on those shoes she was a whirling tornado.

As she looked in to the audience she saw the faces of the wise and foolish. But was taken by one.
A grandmother.
Who gave the shoes to her grand-daughter.

A young child can never fully appreciate the beauty of ballet.
But as she grows, and learns, and goes to class, she begins to see the pointe.
These shoes are stored away in a box to gather dust, hidden from the eyes of the aspiring, until one day when they’re older.

Her friends don’t see the beauty in a dusty, old shoe. Neither do her siblings. Neither her parents. But she does.

When she puts on those shoes she is graceful.
At home she is a quiet breeze but when she puts on those shoes she is a whirling tornado.