Hope & Ray Story #11 (an excerpt)
Fire in Her Feet
Hope danced like her body was part of the rhythm itself. She didn’t hold back. She didn’t shrink herself. Her arms moved like brushstrokes. Her feet pulsed with the beat. Her orange shoes practically left fire behind them.
Ray tried to keep up. He stumbled once, then twice, then just started copying her moves in exaggerated slow motion. Hope laughed, a real laugh, the kind that cracked open the moment and made it feel lighter.
She turned to him, breathless and bright. “This is so not about getting it right. It’s just dancing!”
So he kept going the way he was.
They spun, clapped, tripped, recovered. Someone spilled punch near their feet. A kid near them tried breakdancing and failed gloriously. Ray gave him a standing ovation.
WHAT THIS SAYS ABOUT STRENGTH
Hope’s strength isn’t about showing off. It’s about showing up ... as her real self. Those orange shoes weren’t just bold. They were honest. She chose to be fully seen, even if it meant standing out. That takes guts.
