I didn't ask the girl sitting on the floor with her crutches about what happened. But I think I know. I think that maybe just the day before, or maybe just a few hours before, she was one of the girls standing in front of the windows and dancing. And maybe she slipped or maybe she landed wrong or maybe she was hurrying somewhere too fast and tripped on something or someone she didn't see.
But she didn't go home. She's still there, watching, learning, waiting until she can join in the kicking and cheering. And in the meantime being disappointed.
I've tripped before. Not maybe the kind of tripping that requires crutches, but the kind that means something you tried to do didn't work. Maybe even you failed.
So you have to sit and watch other people who maybe weren't so clumsy or unlucky, and hope you learn what they're learning, even though you're sitting on the floor.
And then you get up and do it all again. Because it's no fun sitting on the floor. And even when there's always that possibility that you're going to tumble again, you know you just have to get up and dance.
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