Beth.

"I'm going to be a ballerina when I grow up!" Beth shouted to her second grade teacher. "I'm going to have pointy shoes! And I'm going to dance and dance and dance!"

Her teacher smiled, nodded, and continued class.

The bell rang, and Beth raced to her mother's car.  She changed into her leotard and tights between the back seats. As the mini van pulled up to the studio, Beth's stomach began to flutter and cheeks began to flush. Her smile spread like an opening curtain. It was time for lessons.

Beth's passion for the art matured with age. Her strength grew. She practiced constantly. She stretched in her sleep. She injured her knee. She recovered. Her life centered around this beautiful, difficult, ever expanding world.

After countless hours of training and years of tears, she joined a small company. Beth waited tables on the side to keep a roof over her head. She ate leftovers from the restaurant.

Beth auditioned for the New York City Ballet. Her performance stunned the instructors, and she accepted their invitation to join the company.

A few days in, her feet started bleeding. The new shoes cut into her heels. Her toes cramped. Her ankles swelled. She melted into her carpet and cried. Beth could focus on nothing but the excruciating pain. She called her mother in tears.

"Mom, I can't do this. This is killing me. I'm not used to dancing this long. I'm not used to pushing my body this hard. The shoes we have to wear are terrible."
"You can't do this?"
"No."
"Baby, are you sure you can't do this?"
"Ah, Mom, I don't know. This just hurts. This is my dream, I just never imagined it would be this painful."
"We never know, hun. We never know how much childbirth kills until we're having the baby, and by then it's too late to do anything about it! Dreams are the same way. They hurt. They hurt a whole lot while you're having them. They're fun to talk about and fun to imagine, but giving birth to them is a royal pain. You carry it around inside of you for a while, then you rip your poor self apart getting the thing out of you. Why, and after they're born, the real work begins! It demands you do everything for it! You don't even get to rest after it comes out! But, watching it grow is the most rewarding thing. I remember when you were just learning how to walk. You started dancing, then, too. Baby, you were made for this."

Beth got off the phone, covered her feet in band-aids, and fell into her bed. She knew she would need a good night's sleep to fuel her as she danced her dreams to life.