It was spring, I was small and frightened as always outside home. I had to perform in a ballet in school and I was desperate, because no way I would learn the thing in time. I was, I’m, dyslexic and never knew what is right and what is left. My legs and my arms where a mess but the teacher insisted in putting me in the front row. Each rehearsal was a disaster. And after each one I was on the verge of tears.
Suddenly one day, y felt and hit my head hard against a door in school. It was a pretty serious wound and the doctor had to suture it. My forehead swallowed and my left eye closed and I had to wear a very notorious bandage, so the dance teacher decided to send me to the end row, in the dark, because I was not looking precisely cute that way.
I was happy because I was dizzy and disoriented and now I could go wrong without been noticed or dancing looking at the one in front of me to do exactly what she was doing and don’t mistake my right arm or leg with the left one during the performance.
When all was over, and all the families were waiting for us, my brother said to me: you were the best! the only one who didn’t look at the others for what to do during the dancing! Then I discovered what was unconditional brother’s love