Dancing

A little boy lives just down the street from me. I’ve seen him ride bikes with his sister, try very hard to sit quietly in church, and play the role of the drummer boy in a Christmas pageant–carefully, soberly carrying his drum down the aisle to present to the baby Jesus. This little boy was walking down the street by himself last night at suppertime, with a swagger he has perfected to look just like his dad’s. In the middle of his walk, he stopped, looked up at the sky, and started twirling around, arms wide open. He bopped his head along to a beat only he could hear, then added some fancy footwork to his dance. He went along like this for a few feet, a smile on his little face, then simply stopped and continued walking up the street. Watching him, I thought, I want to be like THAT–so happy and uninhibited that I just HAVE to dance along the street to a song in my head, not caring at all what people watching might think. And when I’m finished with my soul’s dance, I’ll look up and smile, thank God for my song, and keep walking on.