Natalia

In a small town where the inhabitants knew each other and thought they knew everything about each other, there lived a girl. Her name was Natalia. She had fair hair, the sunlight weaving golden reflections into it. She had skin as delicate as porcelain, and if anyone looked at her from close enough, they would say that her eyes reflected the sky. The townspeople liked her because, although she didn't say much, she had a pleasant smile for everyone. For Mrs. Zosia, who worked at the kiosk, for the boys who spent all day sitting on the carpet rack, even for a stray mutt. People turned to see her as she strolled through the streets because she walked so lightly, as if she were dancing, as if the sidewalk were shifting beneath her feet.

Every day, Natalia stood before a huge mirror, perfectly reflecting her entire figure. Dressed in a snow-white dress, she wore ballet slippers her mother had bought at a discount. It was in front of this mirror that she spent most of the day practicing bends, half-turns, and pirouettes. She observed her movements in the mirror and rejoiced every time she managed something she hadn't mastered the day before. She danced until exhaustion signaled that she should stop and rest. Very often, this moment came only late in the evening. And when Natalia lay in bed, she thanked God for her ballet slippers, for her white dress, for her shapely legs that grew stronger with each passing day and could dance longer, for the music and the dance. She was grateful for each day she could live as she truly desired. And she lived in joyful anticipation of that one, that one day, that was yet to come.

The special day arrived sooner than Natalia expected. Dressed in a new, even more beautiful dress, with her old, worn-out ballet slippers on her feet, she waited backstage with a trembling heart for the most important moment of her life. The seconds stretched on endlessly. The town mayor had just entered the stage in an elegant tuxedo and announced the performance of "the most talented girl who has ever lived here." Natalia felt her cheeks burn at the mayor's words. As she stood on stage, her eyes darkened. A stir broke out among the audience, captivated by her dance moves and innocent face. "My mom is sitting there. And dad. And grandma and grandpa are looking down on me. They believe in me," Natalia thought, smiled faintly, and began to dance.

She didn't know how long she'd been dancing. It seemed to her that only a moment had passed since she started. And she could have danced like that for hours. The beautiful, soothing music flowed straight from her heart, flowing through her veins, spreading throughout her body, filling every muscle, every nerve. And when it became truly overwhelming, it returned to her heart, and it felt so blissful, so good. The audience, the stage, the spotlights ceased to exist. There was only Natalia and her music. "Thank you, God, for this sweet something that flows within me, moves my whole body, and allows me to dance. Your love for me is music, and my love for you is dance. Let me dance like this for the rest of my life." And she danced.

Every moment, even the most beautiful, must eventually come to an end, to give way to other moments. The music stopped, Natalia stopped, and her eyes widened. The glare of the spotlights blinded her. The applause from the hundreds of people in the audience rang in her ears. It sounded like music too, but different, and Natalia didn't yet know how to enjoy such music. All the townspeople and many of their friends from surrounding towns had come to her performance. Some she knew personally, others she only smiled at as she lightly walked through the streets. Now, faced with the enthusiastic crowd, she smiled back, and after a moment, bowed. And she was sure that now she could go backstage, escape the stares directed at her, and relive what she had experienced in solitude. She was sure she could smile again and then retreat from this chaos, to which she was unaccustomed. But she couldn't. She couldn't, because her feet seemed glued to the ground, so she couldn't move at all. She froze, and the crowd applauded and applauded as if they had no intention of stopping. When the girl noticed her legs were completely stiff, she wanted to scream, but her voice caught in her throat. Besides, no one would have heard her anyway, because she was just receiving a standing ovation. And she wanted so badly to burst into tears, to scream, just to make them stop clapping and finally pay attention to her. "Someone look at me! I can't move!" Finally, a tear of helplessness rolled down her cheek, but she didn't even feel it. Suddenly, the entire room began to spin at a dizzying pace, and Natalia with it. The room spun and spun, and the stage shrank. She was getting smaller and smaller...and smaller...

Natalia woke up with a scream, drenched in sweat. She reached a trembling hand toward the nightstand and turned on a small lamp. Beside the lamp stood a porcelain dancer. She was frozen in place, staring at a spot on the floor.

The porcelain ballerina has stood motionless by Natalia's bed for so long because the girl lost the key to the music box.

So much time has passed since the accident, and Natalia still can't walk. Doctors are helpless.

"Don't worry, I'll make you a new key soon and you'll dance for me again. You know... my feet are made of porcelain too."