Dance is the only kind of art in which we ourselves are an instrument. (Rachel Farnhagen) Since childhood I have been an active and moving child, I liked music and I heard a couple of rhythmic sounds, selflessly started dancing. And so, when I grew up a little and I was. () Years old, my mother suggested that I go to the dance. At first I was afraid and capricious, but finding myself in a spacious and at the same time cozy dance hall, I felt no worse than I felt at home, dancing in front of a large mirror.
As time went on, we with our dance team learned more and more dances, and, as soon as our “baggage of knowledge” allowed it. dance teacher announced. “Guys, dear, in a month we have a responsible speech!” This caused me a flurry of emotions and a storm of emotions, but the teacher reassured me, she always knew how to cheer and adjust to the right way. A month flew swiftly, we honed our skills. And at last the hour came, our first “minute of glory”. fear again gripped me, but it was a fear of the public, because before only my mother was a grateful spectator of my home performances.
Behind all these thoughts, which spindled in my child’s head, a woman’s voice followed. “And now, on the stage will come guys from (.) With the number (.)”. then the applause greeted us. Of course, I was worried, because so many eyes are directed to us and to our dance. After the speech (the name of the teacher) praised us and our parents were just delighted.
My mother and I decided to celebrate my first performance and went to a children’s cafe, she bought me all sorts of sweets, well, I was just happy about life. Since then, I have been doing dances, and after each performance, my mother and I, traditionally, go to that very cafe and I sincerely and childishly rejoice, as then, in my (.) Years.