Our two oldest boys prepared for the ball, starting first with learning how to put on a cumberbun and cufflinks, then ending with two very unfamiliar shiny, stiff shoes.
The entire concept was new to all of us. Being from the north, I'd never even heard of Cotillion. A sweet friend I adore in North Carolina convinced me to have the boys participate, but I wondered how it would all turn out.
Climbing in the car, the mood was quiet. Mixed emotions of nervousness, excitement and hesitation were overwhelmingly apparent.
As to be expected, any pre-teen boy would less than jump at the chance to participate in such an event, but nonetheless, months of classes, practice and instruction had culminated to this one single evening.
With raised eyebrows, the boys turned to us as they entered the ballroom. It was impossible not to pause at the decadence of chandeliers, met with even more beautiful white gowns and gloves.
Awkward glances between boys and girls were instantly met with pointed toes kicking the floor...until the music began.
Suddenly, the rest of the world seemed to disappear and my two boys, became young men, poised and strong.
My pulse quickened as tears began to swell, knowing this night would be a memory I'd always hold dear. Seeing them as gentlemen, treating the girls with grace and respect, would be a picture I'd take with my heart...and keep inside forever.