Because this is my last column for CFOM, I want to step back
from the “writer column” mind-set and share a little vignette, a slice
of life that has had a profound effect on me. And captured in this
moment in time is a great lesson for us all.
I don’t know her name. Neither do I know where she lives. But I do know that a little girl changed me forever.
There is a place in Columbia, South Carolina, called Bill’s Music
Shop and Pickin’ Parlor, and if you like bluegrass music, it is the
place to be on Friday and Saturday nights. You may walk in on a dozen
different pickup groups jamming, or you may see Eddie and Martha Adcock
in concert. Ricky Skaggs has even been known to pick a tune or two
But on the night that changed my life, no celebrities were present.
Just a few local folks picking bluegrass in various gatherings. Folks
were wandering in and out, some finding a group and joining in, others
just moving from place to place, listening to the music.
Then they came in.
A mother and her daughter. The mother was a tall blonde in a simple
print dress and sandals. Her young daughter was a barefooted carbon
copy. They meandered, listening for a few minutes until the little girl
said those three magic words: “I wanna dance.”
And in a swirl of skirts they danced, mother and daughter, the
daughter standing on her mother’s feet. Laughing and twirling around
clusters of people, as if they were the only two people in the room.
Around and around they whirled, moving from group to group, dancing to
whatever tune was playing at any given moment. All blue eyes and
laughter. And as they swept by me, the daughter looked into her
mother’s face and squealed with delight.
That night I got a glimpse of what heaven must surely be like.
As I write this, a decade has passed since that event, and in my heart a little girl still dances.
That’s it. Just a story about a little girl and her mother.
Or is it?
While I won’t be seeing you here every month, know that I appreciate
you and wish you nothing but the best. Now get out there and dance!