The little girl watched with the audience, watched and admired the tight-rope walkers. They stood high above her head, in glorious clothing and petite parasols. They walked back and forth across the narrow path, from one pillar to another. The audience marveled at how easy they made it look, almost as if floating over the rope, gliding from point A to point B. They were a special race of humanity; confident, graceful, determined, focused, almost unaware of the multitude watching them below.

It was right then that she decided she would become one of them. The little girl wanted to be a tight-rope walker and nothing was going to stand in her way. After the audience dispersed and the rope walkers took a break, she emerged from the stands, ready to be transformed, cleansed, initiated. They smiled kindly and took her by the hands, helping her into her own gloriously white gown. She twirled and spun around, enjoying the beautiful, clean apparel and the freedom that came with it. Then she was handed her own pearl parasole. Her happiness had reached infinite.

We will show you how, the tight-rope walkers told her with smiles and gleaming eyes. They were excited to have a new member, though still young and inexperienced.

She was given her first instructions; to climb up the wooden pillars by the loose rope ladder, the same pillars that held the great circus tent up.

We've all done it, they reassured her. The little girl swallowed nevously and her hands shook as she grabbed for the ladder; but she reminded herself that nothing would stand in her way. She placed one foot on a wooden plank and then another, reaching higher and higher. She began to climb up. It was a long ways journey, but she never looked back, never noticed just how high up she was. The destination was all she had in mind.

The last plank was reached, the last step was taken. She stood on the tiny platform, the ladder behind her, the rope stretched out endlessly before her. She never knew she was afraid of heights, until she dared to glance below her. Her fellow tight-rope walkers looked so far away all of a sudden and she felt all alone now. She wondered what was next to do.

The parasol in her hands glowed brightly, urging her on. She took another nervous swallow, but did not let her own fear get in the way of her goal. She placed one wobbly foot on the thick, binded rope and stretched her hands out to both sides- just as she'd seen them do it. Her other foot left the platform.

The rope moved, swayed, jiggled. She feared for her life, shutting her eyes tightly, absolutely sure she'd lost her balance and would fall. A few moments passed. Finally, gathering up all the courage she had, she opened her eyes and saw that she was still on the rope.

Her back straightened, her head held high, she found a strength she didn't know she had. She used that strength to take another stride forward. Her body leaned to the right, losing its balance momentarily. But nothing happened. She did not fall or loose her footing. And she could've sworn it felt like someone was holding her hand.

Quickly, she made it across the rope. She reached the opposite pillar, stepping onto the other platform. Cheers emerged from the small crowd below. She'd barely heard them, though. She looked at the rope, bewildered and out of breath. She'd never expected it to be so nerve-racking and worrying. But, oh, the excitement she felt; a strange new anxiety that rushed in her veins.

She made it back just as quickly, out-of-her-mind happy and joyous. What an accomplishment! Her moments passed by, walking to and fro across her own rope. She'd done it. She beame a tight rope walker. Soon, an audience came along to watch, but she didn't care anymore as she put one foot before the other, countlessly walking her sturdy rope.