Pigs Can Fly Too!
Once there was a pig named Arnold who wanted to learn how to dance. So he went to town one evening, to a local dance club where music played till the wee small hours. Now pigs were not really welcome in this town, especially in dancing establishments, since they were known to make far too much noise with their clacking hooves.
But Arnold was not to be dissuaded. He had waited a long time for this and was intent upon doing what he came to do. At the dance club was a maid named Harriet who was known to be extremely friendly. She had dated most of the men in town including the village clergyman who was alleged to be celibate. Now Harriet knew a trick or two. “She had been around,” as they say, and was well experienced. Not too many men would have anything to do with her now since her reputation had spread so far and wide.
When Arnold arrived all eyes in the club were turned toward him. He was such a strange sight amidst the color and cacophony of this dance crowd that most everyone stood up to stare at him.
“Pigs don’t dance,” someone was heard to say.
“And they surely can’t fly,” added another voice.
“But they do make a good roast pork,” yelled someone else.
And everyone in the club laughed with glee, except for Arnold of course. He found none of this amusing. Especially since many of the references were about his body being so appetizing.
Harriet noticed him right away and came over to greet him.
“Good evening sir pig,” she began. “What brings you to this den of iniquity?”
“Well,” Arnold began, “I have come from a far off place where pigs are known to be quite a delicacy. But beyond that, they are appreciated for little else. I thought if I could prove that we have other talents besides being delicious, perhaps we could be treated with more respect.
“You see, when I was young we were prepared for our inevitable fate of gracing a fine dinner table. But as I grew older I began to question this and decided to venture out on my own to see what I could discover. In my travels I have tried many things. I have flown in airplanes, jumped from them in a parachute, raced a car at a speedway, swam great distances and climbed some very high mountains. But never in all of those adventures did I have the opportunity to dance.”
“And that is why you are here?” Harriet inquired.
“Yes indeed,” he replied. “I am here to dance. That has always been a dream. Even when I was small I fantasized gliding across a dance floor in coattails and black tie to the delight of those watching and the pleasure of my dance partner.”
“Well,” said Harriet, “that’s quite a dream. You do realize of course that pigs very often are asked to leave such premises as their hooves make so much noise on the hardwood dance floor?”
“Yes, yes, this I know,” he repeated. “But I have come prepared. I brought special shoes which will allow me to glide across the dance floor with nary a sound to be heard.”
“Show me your shoes,” Harriet asked.
And out of Arnold’s carryall came a pair of winged tipped slippers. They actually had wings on them, much as seen in the movies. To demonstrate what his winged shoes could do, Arnold put them on and began to glide around the dance floor. He gracefully and quietly completed one quick loop to the utter amazement of everyone present. Harriet was duly impressed.
“Yes,” she spoke, “those are truly remarkable shoes. I believe I’d like to glide with you myself. If you would be so kind?” as she offered him her hand.
And off they went, the two of them, slipping and sliding across the brightly lit dance floor, to the complete astonishment of everyone watching. She, the well known street matron, and he, a pig, no more or less, were dancing together as if God intended it that way. As the evening wore on they became more and more adept with each other and with each piece of music. A tango, a samba, a step dance, a waltz, all performed with majestic grace and flawlessly executed through every move.
The patrons, now past being incredulous, took careful notice. Slowly they gathered around to watch this most unusual pair glide across the dance floor as if they hadn’t a care in the world, as if they had been destined to dance together for God’s pleasure only. The couple remained oblivious to their audience. Only each other’s eyes they took note of as each graceful step was taken, while the rhythm of the music swept them further and further into a transcendent rapture.
Finally the music stopped and our odd couple came to a halt. The evening of dancing was over and this they both knew. But now what? Would they meet again? Was that ever possible? Was it even desirable? No one could say. As Harriet and Arnold parted company they thanked each other for a wonderful evening. She thanked him for being such a gentleman. And he thanked her for helping him fulfill another dream.
As they went their separate ways an eerie stillness seemed to take hold of the night. The moon glowed softly off in the distance and the stars twinkled brightly in the inky sky. Arnold had another dream completed and Harriet did as well. Both had a special purpose fulfilled that no one else could do for them. When Harriet returned home she felt beautiful and alive. No one had ever treated her so graciously. She felt grateful and made a promise that she would never cheapen herself again for anyone’s favor.
And what about Arnold? Well he was a happy chap after all. He had danced the night away like the air was filled with magic. He could only imagine how much better it might have been if Harriet had been a pig also. “But,” he thought, “who could know that a pig would dance that well in the first place? But that’s no so important,” he went on. “What is important is that I fulfilled my dream and my dreams are what make me who I am. Who can say what I’ll dream tonight and how that may turn out? One thing for certain, whatever God wants me to be is what I’ll become and I’ll do it to the best of my ability.”
And with that thought, Arnold started to drift off, happily on his way to dreamland where he could become a caterpillar on horseback, a cat on a flying trapeze, a monkey in a fire station, a damsel in a tower, or something else; he’d know for certain in the morning. Until then he would let this evening’s magic carry him to whatever fanciful adventure he might imagine next. For in the dream state one could happily travel from one world to another, learn an important lesson and move on. There was no end to this process of growth and learning and no end to the opportunities and characters that would come his way. His new friend Harriet had been one such arrival and there were likely many more like her. And who says that “Pigs can’t fly.” If that’s what they dream of, then fly they must. For eventually all dreams become a reality if you believe in them enough. So off to sleep Arnold went.