National Story Project
With Paul Auster

Listen to Willa Parks Ward's story

Listen to Anna Thorson's story

November 4 and 11, 2000 -- For November 11, the selection is a tribute to veterans day. Paul Auster reads the story by Willa Parks Ward. For November 4, we hear stories of life and of love as the National Story Project's Paul Auster reads a story submitted by Anna Thorson of Sarasota, Florida.

Put Your Little Foot

I hated it when Mama tied a bow in my hair. My blonde hair was too fine, and we both knew that it would slip off long before the evening was over. I didn't like bows and dresses and only wore them when pressured.

Tonight was different. I was going to a barn dance. I started to sway to the imaginary music in my head. I decided that I would survive if I pretended that I was my cousin Emma.

"Stand still. I need to straighten the sash on your dress. I expect you to mind your manners tonight and don't forget that you and your brother are going to dance Put Your Little Foot. I want everyone to see how well both of you are learning to dance."

"Oh Mama, I don't see why I have to dance with Raymond. He doesn't want to be seen dancing with his little sister. Besides, all of our cousins will be watching and will tease us."

For days Mama made us practice Put Your Little Foot. I thought it was a simple dance that didn't require too many brains, much less a lot of practice. I didn't understand why Mama was making such a fuss. All you had to do was stand side by side and move from left to right according to the music. You crossed your right foot over your ankle and put it down -- then you switched sides. Raymond and I caught on from the beginning, and the only reason we had trouble with the dance was that we tried to trip or kick each other.

I knew there would be snickers and giggles from our cousins, whose parents never made them show off. But Mama had made it clear. The price for us to stay up late, watch the adults, and have a late-night supper was Put Your Little Foot. My brother and I shook hands and agreed that we wouldn't embarrass Mama. We also agreed to band together and beat up our cousins the next day if they made fun of us.

It was a big barn dance. People were coming from the surrounding ranches and towns. Every spare bedroom and the bunk house were filled. There had not been a barn dance for a long time. In 1942, gasoline was rationed and many of the men were in the war. However, this year quite a few men were home on leave, and my aunt and uncle decided that everyone needed a party -- the soldiers, the cowboys, the relatives, and even the kids. It was a big eatin' and meetin'.

People were already arriving and I could hear the greetings. "Howdy! Glad y'all could come. Sure a nice night for a barn dance." The fiddler was tuning his fiddle and some of the ladies were giving the barn floor one last sweeping. I saw my cousin Emma going into the barn and I took out after her.

"Emma, Emma, wait for me."

She turned and took me by the hand. "Don't run, Anna Bess. You'll get all sweaty and spoil your pretty dress." Then she leaned down and whispered to me, "Besides, your mother won't like it if that bow falls out of your hair."

I loved my cousin Emma. She could always make me laugh, and I thought she was the most beautiful, perfect person in all the world. She squeezed my hand as we went into the barn.

"Go and find your friends, Anna Bess. I'm going over to see Betty Sue." I looked wistfully at the young adults, but I knew that I was expected to sit with the children. However, I did pretend that I was Emma as I walked over to join the children in the corner.

The music started. The dancers jumped to their feet and the dance was in full swing. My mother, a widow, was on the floor for every dance. I had never seen Mama dance and she was wonderful. She always had a partner and never made a mistake in the square dances. The Texas Star was my favorite. I pretended I was dancing all of the steps. I was tapping out time with my feet and could hardly sit still. I had completely forgotten about Put Your Little Foot until I heard the music. I hung my head down as far as I could, hoping Mama wouldn't see me or that my brother couldn't find me. I heard steps approaching but I kept my head down. I didn't want to have to look up at my brother's smirking face.

A deep voice said, "Anna Bess, would you like to dance?" I slowly raised my head, hoping the ribbon was still in my hair, and there was Mr. Hillary Bedford, one of my grandfather's best friends. He had on his best clothes and his gray hair shone in the light. He bowed, took my hand, and led me to the dance floor. Then he smiled, put his arm around my shoulder, and we started to dance.

The slow waltz tempo was perfect. He was elegant. I didn't know that dancing felt like this. It was like ice skating -- smooth and easy. He gently led me and turned me until I felt that I was the most wonderful dancer in the world. Everyone stopped dancing and watched us. Mr. Bedford was one of the most important men in our community, and he was dancing with me.

Soon all of the young girls were dancing with their fathers or uncles or grandfathers. Mr. Bedford and I swirled past my brother, who was dancing with one of our cousins. Mama was dancing with my grandfather. On and on the circle expanded until everyone was on the dance floor with Mr. Bedford and me in the center. When the music stopped, everyone clapped and cheered. People hugged each other. For one special moment we were all part of the same family. I felt so happy to be in the center of so much love. I didn't feel like a kid. I felt like a grownup who could dance.

– Anna Thorson
Sarasota, Florida

The National Story Project can be heard the first Saturday of every month on Weekend All Things Considered.