Once upon a time there was a little lonely miracle.  Most miracles were born a fair size; rather puffed up and ready to float away to do their duty at a moment’s notice.  However, little Itsy Bitsy, as she was called, was so tiny that she couldn’t keep up with the others and most of the time she had to hang around in Miracle Land all on her own.  You can imagine how sad she felt.  Itsy Bitsy had the most tender of hearts and the Chief Miracle used to console her “Don’t worry Itsy, one of these days a need will be so great that its own strength will carry you to it on its wings”.

I bet you didn’t know that miracles love music, usually the floaty, supermarket kind of music, often with flutes and things.  That was another rather unfortunate trait about Itsy Bitsy, she liked the kind of music that you just had to tap your toes to, even dance to, the kind of music with a good drum beat and a rockin’ guitar.  Indeed poor Isty felt a real oddball in Miracle Land.

As most of you know, Miracle Land is situated south of Ireland, north of Africa, slightly to the east of Australia and within spitting distance of the moon.  It is in a perfect position for the Miracle population to do its job of spotting distress calls floating up above the earth.  One day, quite a few years ago now, it had been a particularly busy week and all the miracles were off on VICs (very important calls), except Itsy, of course.  She twiddled her little flowdies  (Miracle toes) while she tried to concentrate on the ‘Three thousand seven hundred and fifty-three regulations governing Miracle Responsibilities’ but her head kept bobbing up and her heart was thumping much faster than usual.  “This is rather strange” Itsy muttered to herself.  Then her left flowdy started tapping and in the distance she heard guitar riffs and drum beats floating up towards Miracle Land.  She leaned over the edge and next thing she knew she was speeding down to earth on the back of musical notes that seemed to have no end.   With a gigantic plop she was deposited in the middle of an enormous arena right onto a concrete floor.  Shaking herself she looked around.

There were a group of people who seemed very intent on various tasks.  Itsy realized that the music came from a sound system (yes, Itsy knew what that was, she had had plenty of time on her own to browse the internet after all) on a large stage.  Oh that music, it was so wonderful, Itsy just wanted to dance and dance.  But she realized that obviously she had been brought here for a particular reason and she was excited that she now had her very own task.

“But supposing no-one comes”, lamented one of the ladies, “We’ve tried so hard but you can’t make people want to be part of this event”.  “You’ve done all you can Val, it’s now up to the dancers” responded another, “If they want a miracle they have to make it happen themselves”.

“But they have”, Itsy tried to shout, “I’m here”.  Then she remembered Rule #327 “Humans can’t hear Miracles, they can just see the results of their actions”.  So she got to work.  “This ladder just won’t reach” someone called out.   All of sudden it seemed to grow a few inches; the forgotten raffle tickets materialized under the event T-shirts; the fancy glass vase that was accidentally knocked onto the hard ground didn’t break; and the sound system that had been giving Lynn so much trouble suddenly decided to behave itself.   The atmosphere that been rather tense up until that moment lightened up and everyone began to smile and joke around as they worked. 

And so the pattern was set for the weekend.  Crowds of dancers came full of smiles and good humour ready to dance and eager to participate in the fund raising efforts.   The weekend flowed like a well oiled machine.  Whenever there seemed to be the potential for disaster, for example when the ‘toony lunch’ cheese sandwiches ran out, miracle of miracles, there was a box of extras discovered hidden behind the bar.  

Even the packing-up-to-go was completed in record time and Valarie and her helpers had a moment to put up their feet and reminisce.  “You know “, said Val, “it’s almost like this event was really meant to be, as though there was a hidden hand guiding us.  I reckon it needs a new name.  It seems to me that we’ve had a number of little miracles in just these few days.  On top of which all these dancers came together to have fun but also to raise money that they hope will help towards creating a big miracle for many people.  So what do you think if we call our event ‘Dancin’ for Miracles’?”  As you can imagine, there was a consensus straight away and that’s how this event got its name.

“But what happened with Itsy Bitsy?”  you might ask.  Well the little Miracle floated back to Miracle Land on a cloud of happiness; she didn’t need any help to get home.  She was a little weary as she had worked tirelessly over the weekend but Itsy was energized as well as she had been dancin’ up a storm when she wasn’t racing around performing her little miracles.   Word travels fast in Miracle Land and Itsy was given a tremendous welcome upon her return.  After all, there have to be a lot of little miracles to enable the big Miracles to be successful.  From that moment on she was in demand as a Miracle Worker, but all the Miracles know that every year on a certain weekend in September Itsy Bitsy has a very special priority Miracle Appointment that just can’t be changed.

PS I should add that Itsy Bitsy also now teaches line dancing in Miracle Land and she is much in demand;  the miracle being that there are no left feet in Itsy’s class!

By Vivienne Scott