The Elves and the Shoemaker: A Story Retold
Once upon a time there was a little dance studio nestled in a small town in Maryland. The studio was bursting at the seams with young ballet students eager to perform in a "Nutcracker," preferably their own "Nutcracker." Sadly, there were many reasons to resist. There was the enormous cost, the commitment, and the fear of the unknown. But there was also a dream that overshadowed the fear and made that studio take a leap of faith. And so the story of our first "Nutcracker" continues.
Enter the elves... When you start from almost scratch (though we did have some costumes) there is no shoemaker who gets to sleep while the elves do all the work. No one gets to sleep this year. We are all elves, and my amazing elves have stepped up to the plate and surpassed all expectations that I may have had. What amazes me is that these elves (the parents and families of our dancers) are discovering their hidden talents as they work their way through sewing on trim, gift wrapping packages, building props and tackling the all overwhelming job of fundraising and publicity.
The shoemaker's cobbler shop has a new address, mine. Every Wednesday night is "Craft Night" at my house, which currently resembles Santa's workshop. My living room is swimming in foil wrapped presents and giant velvet bows. My den is covered almost ceiling to floor with party dresses and full-bodied cloth horses waiting for alteration. My sun room looks like a craft store. Call me crazy, but I like it!
As our magic begins on Wednesday nights, my elves (mostly female) arrive ready to tackle whatever project the night has in store. It could be anything from making ornaments to cutting out clown collars for Mother Ginger's little puppets. Whatever the task, they are willing and ready. For those who arrive looking a little apprehensive about the craft du jour, we always have some veteran crafters to fall back on. My first question to a newcomer is always, "Are you afraid?" If the answer is no, they are immediately placed at the advanced craft table for the night. My novices head for the Basic Crafting 101 table. Finally, all those who tend to be craftphobic come to contribute to the cause with conversation, coffee and clean up. I love them all!
In all honesty, I've got to admit that the coffee carriers and conversation coordinators are no less important than the true artisans. We work as a group and feed off the camaraderie. Fun, not skill, is undoubtedly the key element. During the process of making fairy tiara's this past week, one of our elves discovered her hidden talent for ribbon curling. She has been promoted.
It seems I've spent my life being an elf. Given the choice of being the Indian or the Chief, I'll choose the Indian any day. But this time, I'm beginning to feel like the shoemaker. Although I've bitten off a big chunk of responsibility for this performance, I'm not working alone. I've been extremely blessed. The magic is being done by everyone around me, sometimes without even having to ask.
Each week, I take in sewing projects with specific instructions. They may be repairs, trim, or actual construction. I leave them on a rack in an empty studio room. One by one, they disappear for a couple of days. And then as if by magic, they reappear completed and ready to wear. They're not signed. They're not tallied. There is no payment involved. It just gets done, just like the cobbler's shoes did each night.
In that same studio just last week, one dancer's dad delivered a magnificent handmade fireplace for the Party Scene. It was a donation... something that was not there the day before. Somehow "thank you" seemed inadequate. When the word went out for little girl's dresses for the party scene, moms went through their daughter's closets. Beautiful party dresses that had been outgrown appeared just in time to be transformed into period costumes for the girls. No one asked for a penny in return.
Every day when I go into that "magic" room at the studio, I find another treasure... a porcelain doll, a Victorian chair, a piece of beautiful fabric, maybe some "Nutcracker" memorabilia to be sold at the performance. Although the elf who put it there may be anonymous, I can only hope they know how much their efforts are appreciated.
It's been 10 years since my girls have done a "Nutcracker" where I've actually been closely involved with the production, and I must admit I've missed it. But this time it's different. I'm working with my youngest daughter Ashley, now 20. Ten years ago in 1995, she was unforgettable as Clara. Today, she is the co-artistic director and choreographer of the production along with studio owner, Mary Moran. Though she is my child, I truly will never cease to be amazed by her incredible gift both as a dancer, a choreographer and an amazing young woman.
I guess if you have the soul of a dreamer, there's much to be learned from fairy tales, fables and children's stories. From "The Elves and the Shoemaker" to "Cinderella" and beyond, never underestimate the power of a dream. And never, ever let the fear of failure be the reason you choose not to pursue it. Just like the "Little Engine That Could," if you think you can, you can.
Happy Holidays to everyone!