The Mexican Hat Dance

    When I was about 7 yrs. old I was in a recital dance called The Mexican Hat Dance. I danced the boy part and my best childhood dancer friend, Wendy, danced the girl role.

     Our costumes were stunning, black shiny taffeta boleros and pants and big mexicano hats with fuzzy balls, (this will be important later on) dangling from the edge of the large circular brim for the gringos. The senoritas had colorful ruffled skirts and tops.

     We, Wendy and I,  were the leaders.  We were supposed to be the best in the class so we earned the postion of leaders. All the other dancers were supposed to follow us. The dance consisted of heel step steps that took us back and forth, changing sides over and over. All the boys were on the right at the same time and then we would all be on the left. We practiced for weeks baack and forth. Then the night of the show came. It was our turn and we began dancing, dancing our little hearts out. Toward the end of the piece, Wendy and I looked up and happened to notice that all the other dancers were on the wrong side, but how could they all be wrong?

    Well, this sparked a very lively discussion between my good friend and I. Right there and then we were going to get to the bottom of the discression. In the heat of the moment, the little balls on my hat never stopped dancing, bingity bongity bing while I shook my head no,no,no. All over they went as the hat bounced around. We looked out into the faces of the crowd and you would have thought we were great comedians. The audience loved it. They laughed and laughed. We were the hit of the show. Not exactly the kind of success that we dreamed of but regardless, it was entertainment.

    Wendy and I spent a good deal of time after that, vieing for the same solo roles, taking dance, laughing, playing, being good friends and to this day, she and I can remember exactly how that moment felt. As the Arabian Proverb says, a friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one’s heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keeping what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away.

• Thanks for the memories.