THIRTY-SEVEN: FAITH

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Faith felt out of her element. Firstly, there were girls everywhere. Girls in dresses, girls wearing makeup, girls chatting loudly and using many hand gestures. It was overwhelming to say the least. But at their little table, Faith felt secluded from it all. It was as though the rest of the room disappeared, and it was only her and Hope.

And their mother's, of course.

Faith was enjoying the evening thus far. Perhaps in the beginning she was a tad bit apprehensive and even quite sullen to the idea of putting on a dress and attending a dance with her mother. But things were taking an optimistic turn for the better.

Understandably this was because of Hope. Faith wouldn't have been able to endure a night out like this with her mother if it wasn't for Hope's presence and constant encouragement. She was grateful for her.

After dinner was finished, the caterers brought out dessert, which consisted of crème brûlée and vanilla ice-cream. Faith was feeling slightly full from the meal, but as always, she had room for dessert.

As they ate, she glanced over at Hope. "You have some on your face."
Hope froze, momentarily mortified. She reached for the napkin and brought it to her face in one quick motion.
"I'm kidding," Faith laughed.
Hope rolled her eyes, but Faith could tell that she was relieved.

After that, they remained at the table, conversing with everyone else. As nice as the evening was, Faith was getting irritated. She wasn't used to sitting still for such an extended period of time, and she felt the sudden urge to stand up and walk around, stretch her legs a bit. She could hear the conversations happening around her, but she wasn't registering any of it. She was looking around the room, tapping her foot on the ground, thinking of other things she could be doing.

"Are you alright?" Hope asked her quietly, just between them.
Faith turned to her. "When do we actually get to the dancing portion of the night?"
"Getting impatient now, are we?"
"Yes. This is taking too long."
"It shouldn't be much longer. They like to allow time for everyone to digest their food and such."
Faith exhaled. "Okay."

It was another half hour after that when the moderator finally took the microphone and began the introduction.

"Hello again," the woman started off. "I hope everyone enjoyed dinner. Again, we'd like to say a huge thank you to Marcel's Catering for sponsoring this event," there was a round of applause. The woman smiled and waited for the clapping to cease.
"Every year, we gather here in honour of Leslie Fox, a monumental woman and pillar of the community who, in 1968, started a fundraiser for cancer research. After her own mother passed away from cancer, she wanted to do everything she could to help future patients and their families.
"In order to commemorate Leslie and her mother, we host the Leslie Fox Mother-Daughter Dance each and every year as a reminder to appreciate your mothers and your daughters. To appreciate everything they do and to never take them for granted. Tonight, we celebrate all of the women in this room. Tonight, we celebrate Leslie Fox. Tonight," she said once more. "We celebrate you."

The music began and it was as though every woman in the room rose in sync. Faith watched as everyone stood with their mothers and made their way to the centre of the floor. Hope and Joana seemed to float past the tables and chairs, somehow ending up in the very centre of the room. Faith studied how they looked at each other, how they moved in sync, brought together by more than just music. They are the same, Faith thought. They make up each other's DNA. Joana's blood courses through her daughter's veins. And that look in her eyes – that look of pure love and admiration that Joana had for Hope – was magical. And Faith felt herself envying them.

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