This, I believe, is Magic

Ali - Rapid City, South Dakota
Entered on May 3, 2009
Age Group: Under 18
  • Listen to This I Believe on RadioPublic

  • Podcasts

    Sign up for our free, weekly podcast of featured essays. You can download recent episodes individually, or subscribe to automatically receive each podcast. Learn more.

  • FAQ

    Frequently asked questions about the This I Believe project, educational opportunities and more...

  • Top Essays USB Drive

    This USB drive contains 100 of the top This I Believe audio broadcasts of the last ten years, plus some favorites from Edward R. Murrow's radio series of the 1950s. It's perfect for personal or classroom use! Click here to learn more.

This, I Believe, is Magic

I believe in magic, the kind that is not sparkly and it doesn’t often come with big long words. I believe in magic that cannot be seen, the kind that is subtle, but strong. This magic can influence your emotions, or it can change you completely from the inside out.

My first encounter with this magic was the first time I danced. My sister, who was three years older than me, was in dance lessons, but I was too young. So everyday that she had a lesson with her class, I would sit outside the window and follow along. I had never even thought that I would get to perform with them in the upcoming recital, yet, as it turns out, my mom had been harvesting a small hope that I would be allowed.

One day after my sister’s class had finished practicing their routine, the instructor, Ms. Liz, came and spoke to my mom. She had seen me outside the window following along with the class as if I was a part of it, and offered to let me be in the recital with them. Of course my mother said I could, and I was ecstatic. I felt as if I might start floating for all the happy feelings held I’m my small body at that moment. I followed Ms. Liz into the room, and I was officially part of the class.

In two months, it was time for the recital, and I felt small as a mouse compared to all the big six and seven year olds. My tights clung to my small legs, and my tutu was extra fluffy, it seemed to be hiding me. I was very nervous, as anyone would be before going on a stage. I wanted to run out the door, but my mom foresaw what I was thinking, and reminded me of the window. The window that I had stood on for so long, and then been finally spotted through by Ms. Liz. She reminded me that I said I wanted this. So, I stayed, but I felt like I was going to cry.

I am glad that I stayed, because when it was our turn to go on stage, I was a river, and the stage was my banks. I felt so good. I felt like I had never before. The music was an amazing vision of twists and turns in my head, and I followed them easily. To this day, I cannot describe in justice how I felt at that moment, but for one word. Magic.

I believe in magic. I believe that it is not sparkly, and that it does not happen because of magic words, or with a giant boom, unless you want it that way. I believe that magic is what you want it to be to yourself. I believe that it is a way of feeling that can change how you feel, or change how you think. But mostly, believe that it is what you get, when you are doing something you love.