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have always been a part of my holiday celebration in one way or another. As a child, I remember my father joyfully filling the house with his piano repertoire of Christmas songs.
I once played the ruthless Mrs. Filcher in a Christmas Carol and plotted and planned to barrel into Scrooge's bedroom to steal his bed curtains, at any cost.
A couple of scenes later and a quick costume and character change, I elegantly danced my way in between all of Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig's guests at their Christmas ball.
This Christmas, however, I am doing something that I have never done before. I have written a story that was inspired by a very special friend who has lived an extraordinary life...
To P.C. - La Petite Pierrette and the Magic Hands
There once lived a doll
Whose name was Pierrette
She lived a hard life
That she tried to forget.
Her clothes and her hair
Were tattered and old
Her tutu and slippers
Were long ago sold
To one fancy lady
Who danced and became
The grande dame of ballet
In the Doll Hall of Fame.
One night as the dancer sat at her boudoir,
She caught a quick glimpse in her crystal miroir
And noticed a faerie all dressed in fine thread
Who hovered and twinkled around her crowned head.
“From where do you get your love of ballet
The grace and the strength in your turns and jétés?”
The lovely danseuse responded and said,
I found a great treasure where once I was dead
My lovely pink slippers dance all by themselves
As if they were made by invisible elves.
My tutu is spun with the finest of gold
And though it is used and discolored and old
I am the star dancer on stage every night
A beauty, a wonder, a magnificent sight
But without my tutu I am merely a heap
of wood and of strings most unworthy to keep
a faint beam of light that escapes from the heart
of one whose great pain I have made my own art.
"Alas!" said the faerie who flittered around
and gracefully landed upon her great crown
"Henceforth when you dance you will lift up your heart
and thank the artiste who right
from the start
created each movement, each perfect pirouette
and the one and the only La Petite Pierrette.
Pierrette's final destiny is nothing to grieve
for she is well-loved and is said to believe
that above her sweet head as she fixes her eyes
she sees her maîtresse who lives in the skies
prepare a new dance for her little Pierrette
an original ballet for her favorite marionette
for from pain did her beauty become her great art
for she danced and she loved from a most grateful heart. - Anita ©
The pain, the beauty...it all goes together. The cold winter holiday season of Christmas is born from such things, but in the end, beauty wins as it has with you, dear friend.
We all have a story to tell, and all of us are a story waiting to be told. Happy storytelling and Joyeux Noël!
Come back next week for Give-Away chez moi!
Photo Credits: The last photo is of a doll by Lucia Friedericy
Story property of Castles Crowns and Cottages