"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take on single breath for granted
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
And never settle for the pat of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'l give fate the fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance, I hope you dance"
Vicariously through Lee Ann Womack, my 6th grade teacher had written those words down to us, the graduating class, before we stepped out of elementary school. Now, five years later, I type as a coward. The girl who never listened. I never took this advice: I let that dance with the class slip out through my fingers. I brushed against him instead of speaking. I stood up for my brother that was being a bullied like a corpse who had apathetically returned to life. I condescended myself before anyone could say anything bad to me. And yesterday. Yesterday, when I had the chance to sit out or dance, I chose to follow my listless "friends". I chose to shut up, nod, and hope for some Savior to take me out. Because, despite what my heart was telling me to do, I sat out. I sat out and never danced.