Dance Party

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I saw something quite lovely the other night, and as small a gesture as it was, it tended to renew my sometimes flagging faith in humanity. A friend and I went to a mini-concert at a local mall, the kind they often have for shoppers and other interested folk on weekend afternoons and evenings. It was a pretty evening, breezy and full of puffy white clouds, with a relaxed, mostly Baby Boomer crowd. When the band came onstage and started to play, several children, there with either parents or grands, got up and started to dance to the beat. It always tickles me to see the unabashed freedom of little kids; they aren’t even remotely embarrassed to dance in front of a bunch of strangers. Such uninhibited joy in their movements!
Before too long, a man of indeterminate age who was obviously special needs came over to the area where the kids were, a grin on his face. He was bopping along to the music as well, and the mom of one of the dancing girls jumped up and joined hands with him. She danced and twirled with him, and soon some of the children joined in, making their twosome a circle. Before long, another fellow who was with the first joined the fun. And a couple more women from the audience got up to dance with both men. The joy on the guys’ faces was transcendent and it made everyone in the vicinity smile. It also taught the children an incredible, unspoken lesson about kindness and reaching out to those who may be a little different from you. As the concert drew to a close, I know the enthusiastic young mom who energized that dance party left feeling good. But no more so than the male dancers, and those of us in the audience who saw more than a concert that night.

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