I was late.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: How did I manage to be late to a talent show, even though I was last in the queue? Well, on a surface level, you could say I like postponing things. But on a deeper level, I tend to do everything at the last minute. I don’t care if I’m late to the talent show if it means I get five more minutes of sleep.
…Well, until I actually am late.
My glittery headpiece kept sliding off, my shoes made my feet ache, and the feather boa wrapped around my shoulders was absolutely not made for sprinting through downtown. The talent show was already underway, and I was supposed to be on stage… right about now. I had rehearsed my routine a hundred times — in the mirror, in the hallway, even once in the frozen food aisle at the store when a good song came on. I was ready. I was pumped.
The only problem was… I wasn’t there yet. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I didn’t dare stop running. I already knew what the message would say: “You’re up next!! Where are you?!” Every streetlight felt like it was mocking me. The world was moving in slow motion, and I was racing against the seconds. At the very moment I thought, “If only a miracle could happen…”
And that’s when it did. Out of nowhere, a delivery guy on a skateboard rolled past me and yelled, “Cut through the alley! It’s faster!” I didn’t think — I just followed. The alley smelled like a mix of rotting pizza and garbage, but it worked — I popped out right behind the theater. I threw the stage door open just as I heard the emcee call out my act.
No time to breathe. I adjusted my headpiece and marched out under the lights.
Boom — music on.
And I sang. I did the spin that had taken me three days to learn without getting dizzy. The crowd clapped in time, someone cheered my name (I think?), and when it ended, I hit the final pose. I was actually only 30% sure this was real. Maybe I’d hit my head on the way and was dreaming.
As I walked offstage, sweaty and tired, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself.
Miracles don’t always show up with trumpets and sparkles.
Sometimes, they’re the doing of a stranger.