These moments are coupled with enabling a senior student reach their goal or surprise themselves with a perfect set of turns or leaps. This is magic.
I flick between thinking I am the luckiest person to be working with children, to being absolutely mad. Perhaps discussing my madness is for another day. For now, I want to focus on the magic. The magic I experience with these children but also the invaluable lessons they teach me daily.
Alice, in wonderland
Alice is a magical student. She comes to preschool ballet dressed as a different character each week. One week she is Snow White, the next she is Cinderella. Her obsession with dress ups takes her to another land. In this land she can do and be anything. In this land she believes in magic, in this land she believes in fairies. She innocently believes.
At the start of every class I always ask my baby ballerinas "Where would you like to go today?" The responses vary from fairyland, rainbow land, unicorn land, and my all time favourite 'lizard land" (that baby ballerina had a special affinity with lizards...). It's at this class that I think if my friends saw me now they would think I am absolutely mad. Lost the plot, mad. My response: They are the mad ones.
The magic I experience is young children who believe in something.
Child-like faith
For these children it's not a naive "we will do what you say because we don't know any other", no, rather it is trust. These baby ballerinas trust me. They trust that I'll take them on an adventure, they trust they will have a fun lesson, and most of all they trust that I care. These baby ballerinas show me the crux of child like faith. I am sure they are blissfully unaware that I absorb their willingness to participate in my class as a theological inspiration.
When I was younger and started questioning the fundamentals of Christianity I used to gloss over the passages discussing child-like faith. I used to think to really believe was to understand the mysteries of God and all his cosmic rationale. I would have endless round and round discussions about suffering or God's omnipotence. I used to think it was these depths that characterised my faith as someone who really believes.
What changed?
As life slowly coloured itself, the crushing reality of my lack of control left me with more questions than answers. I had previously thought that in my theological and philosophical dabbling I would become less thrown by various sadness and suffering. Unfortunately this was not the case, and in my instance, it never will be.
Through my teaching career I am discovering more wisdom in young children.
Before the world sets a pessimist mind set or doubting ways I am able to glean a glimpse of a child who believes. It is not that they lack questioning and are simply oblivious, rather they absorb the trust I offer them. I think this is the trust that Jesus hopes we approach him with. I think this is the trust that drew him to children.
I will never discount the fruit in questioning or delving deeper into theological mysterious, I have found some merit in the theological grappling of life altering circumstances. But, as I am left with more questions than answers, just like an inquisitive baby ballerina, there has come a time where I've had to simply say: Yes Lord, I believe.
As I choose to tread with caution the areas I question, I am learning to trust and believe. I am learning to humble myself and recognise that I serve a God who is all trusting and loving. I am learning more days than not, he asks me to trust & believe.
Once a baby ballerina who believed in fairies and Neverland, I can now confidently say I eternally believe in a King.
Chloe Pryor is a young adult living in Auckland New Zealand. Studying a Bachelor of Dance, in her spare time she teaches young children dance, ballet and jazz, whilst volunteering hours in the youth ministry of her local church. Chloe has a passion for God and serving the local church with a defined heart for women.
Chloe Pryor's previous articles may be viewed at www.pressserviceinternational.org/chloe-pryor.html