A dance day to Remember, in Port Alberni

A Dance Day to Remember: Sunshine, Sword Steps & Smiles in Port Alberni

   Some days shimmer with a kind of quiet magic from the very moment they begin. Ours began just like that—on a peaceful morning, kissed by golden sunlight, as we made our way down the scenic Ocean Drive through Qualicum Beach. The lighthouse district glowed in the early light, the ocean calm and the trees gently swaying as if the world itself was taking a deep, peaceful breath. It was the kind of morning that fills your heart with possibility. You just know something wonderful is about to unfold.

   We pulled into Parksville for a simple breakfast at McDonald’s—because even dancers need fuel before a big day. As we waited for our order, the restaurant filled with an unexpected and delightful burst of energy: a class of about 40 students from a Kamloops band program had also stopped in, chattering excitedly. They were in town to be adjudicated at their own music competition. It was such a joy to see so many kids from out of town, all brought together by creativity, performance, and community. The air was electric with anticipation, the kind of buzz that only comes when everyone knows something special is ahead.

   After breakfast, we hit the road again, traveling through the towering giants of Cathedral Grove. The trees stretched up toward the sky like ancient guardians of the forest, and as we made our way up the summit, the air turned crisp and misty. Fog settled over the treetops, adding a cool and mysterious feel to the ride—like nature itself was whispering, “Get ready.” And ready we were.

   On the way to the competition, Elizabeth was practicing in the car—counting out her steps to music, rehearsing each movement again and again. After about the seventh or eighth try, we all agreed it was time to switch gears and turn on some road trip tunes. The car filled with laughter and song as we drove through the sunlit trees, that same golden light dancing on the windshield. It was, in every sense of the word, magical.

   We arrived in Port Alberni just before 8:45 a.m., the town still sleepily waking up around us. Elizabeth, focused and calm, went inside to register and quickly changed into her dance outfit. Her quiet determination was beautiful to watch—there’s something powerful about seeing a young dancer step into her element. Violet arrived shortly after, and together the girls headed up to the warm-up room, where the familiar shuffle of feet and soft clapping of hands echoed through the halls. Parents scattered to find their seats, phones ready, hearts full.

And then, the dancing began.

   Elizabeth opened with the Fling, dancing with grace and confidence. She did well—but it was her sword dance that truly stole the spotlight. It’s worth noting that just one week before, she’d only begun learning the third part of the sword. Yet there she was, dancing with such poise and control that she never once touched her sword—not once! A true triumph for any dancer, let alone one stepping into that challenge for the first time.

   Violet danced beautifully as well, her presence radiant on stage. She beamed as she completed her routines and walked away with three medals, including a proud third place. With her thirdplace metal, she got to add her third stamp to her dance card—a sign of her continued growth and accomplishment. The joy on her face said it all.

   The competition itself had a wonderfully intimate feel. With just one adjudicator and a smaller turnout—particularly in the Primary age group—the focus was deeply personal. Every dancer had their moment to shine. They were accompanied by a live piper for several dances, which added a traditional, heartfelt touch to the event. Even when the piper switched to his electronic pipes, the rhythm remained challenging in a good way. Live piping introduces subtle shifts in tempo that demand real focus from the dancers—a skill that can’t be learned from a CD or backing track. And yet, every dancer met the moment.

   The day flowed beautifully from one performance to the next. Medals were handed out, smiles stretched from ear to ear, and not a single child left the stage in tears. Instead, they exited glowing with pride, hugs and high-fives from their fellow dancers and heartfelt compliments from their teacher, who couldn’t have been more impressed by how well everyone performed.

   After the final dances, we joined friends at one of our local dancer’s homes for a little celebration. The kids were in their element—running around, laughing, and sharing stories over hot dogs, fresh fruit, veggies, and juice. The adults chatted and relived the best moments, grateful for this community, these friendships, and these memories being made right in front of us.

   When it was time to go, the goodbyes came with tired smiles and happy hearts. We hit the road with music playing and the satisfaction of a day well-spent. 

   We got home not too late, but just late enough to feel like the day had been full—full of dance, full of joy, full of connection. And as I looked back on it all, I was filled with pride—not just for Elizabeth and Violet, but for every young dancer who stepped on that stage, who smiled through the nerves, who learned something new, and who showed us all what determination and joy can look like.

   These are the kinds of days that stay with you. They settle into your memory like golden light on a quiet morning. They’re the stories you tell over and over again—not just because they were special, but because they remind you of how beautiful life can be when you’re dancing your heart out.

And that’s exactly what they did.