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Archive for June 16th, 2014

Oh how I love this song … when I hear it, I think of miracles. You see, my eldest daughter is a bit (those who know her realize just how much of an understatement that it) of a Cinderella. As, a matter of fact, the theme of her 17th birthday party was ‘Disney Princesses’. And she, as Cinderella, hosted her ‘dressed princessy’ friends to the ball … but I digress.

So, the song reminds me of a miracle. The miracle is, that between his love for his daughter, and her love of all things princess, my hubby dances with his first born princess to this very song. Now how, you ask, is this a miracle? Ya gotta know my hubby! Dancing is one sacrifice he is not normally willing to make! He has no interest in dancing, at all, period. I think I could count, on two hands, how many times he has danced with me in our eons of marriage. Sometimes he ‘pretends’ to dance in public, mocking himself as he moves in a manner similar to the groundhog in the movie ‘Caddyshack’.

But, I digress …

There is something so sweet about dancing with your dad, papa, daddy, pops … whatever you call him, to dance with your father IS to be princess, even if that one dance at the ball is 2:42 long. To dance with your father is to dance with the prince of the kingdom.The only kingdom a little girl knows of.

I remember dancing with my dad one time. I was in elementary school (aka the years of princesses), and my parents were preparing to go to a dance at the local high school (when you are from a ‘village’ of about 1600 people, there is only one high school). My mom (probably late … Mom, you know it’s true) was still making herself beautiful, and my dad was listening to the music on their ‘K-Tel’ album, playing on the ‘record’ player (oh, how old I am). And, although I cannot remember who initiated for sure, we were dancing together. Me and my dad. My memory is vivid of being transported to the castle, dressed in a beautiful gown, dancing with my prince …

And that memory made me believe that dreams do come true. That there was a prince for me (other than my dad), that, one day I would wear a gown and be held by my prince, and live happily ever after. It is a memory of such a significant event, that it ‘fed’ the princess within, to grow, to hope to dream for something even beyond my imagination.

Every little girl needs a memory like this … of dancing with her dad, or whoever her living prince is. She needs this memory, like she needs food, and education, and ‘stuff’ … probably more than education ‘stuff’  😉 A little girl needs the model of a strong, protective, loving prince, so that when she is sought out by the frogs and toads of life, she will be able to recognize the dance of a prince among them. My hubby has had very big shoes to fill, and my daughters future princes will have big ones to fill as well.

But the dance is not just for ‘Cinderella’ or ‘Belle’ or ‘Beauty’ or “Ariel’. No, it is as much for good old Prince Daddy, as for the Princess. It’s just that, dad’s, you forget, what the prince never knew, while she is still in your arms …

“Cause all too soon, the clock will strike midnight, and she’ll be gone”

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