Kamtcha

 

 

Kamtcha is the fearless one. 

She has the trickster's smile.

She is eleven and thin

with long black hair.

 

In the courtyard of Catholic Charities Housing,

she's trying to pick my pockets.

 

I look her in the eyes. 

 

Take my hands.

 

The other children back away.

They don't know this game. 

 

She steps forward, puts her hands in mine.

 

I wink, hold her by the wrists

 

Now run.

 

I nod to the right. 

 

She takes three steps and I launch 

her in the air. I lower my weight,

raise my arms, and pull her up

and to to me as I spin her in circles,

faster and faster, at my chest level,

higher than her head, parrallel

to the ground. 

 

On her fifth revolution, she yells

in exultation, "I'm a ballerina!"

 

In awe, the other children,

the boys and the girls, shout,

"I want to be a ballerina, too!" 

 

 

 

Comments

[Pam]

Love your posts. You are a good man.

[Lance]

That's awesome RD!
What a blessing.
What wonderful memory those kids are making.
Thank you.

[slamdunk]

And you get to count this as an arm workout. Double bonus.

[Tactical Tom]

Pretty Cool, RD!