I love the ballet. The music, the amazing gracefulness, the ability to tell long and complicated stories without saying a single word. (As a total klutz, the fact that they can do all those things without falling down was particularly amazing.) And while it is not the most sophisticated or beautiful of ballets, I will always have a soft spot for the first one I ever saw-- The Nutcracker.
The Nutcracker is a Christmas tradition for many families, and ours is no exception, Judaism aside. When I was a little girl, we would go every year. (I am sure I've seen it at least 20 times.) I would get dressed up in my fanciest outfit and go to Lincoln Center, where the hall seemed hugely grand and beautiful. And then we would watch the ballet.
When I was in college, we took some years off, as my parents said that if they had to watch it one more time, they might gouge their eyes out. However, as I have seen many times over, once Simon expressed interest in going, off we went again. (Never underestimate the power of grandchildren.) So now we are back in the game. And you know what? Even after all of these years, all of those times watching the snowflakes dance across the stage, all of the times Clara's slipper did or did not hit the mouse king, the magic is still there. And I still wear my fancy dress.
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| Welcome, third generation! |
Glad you still love the magic, Rachel!
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