When my school announced prom, I wasn’t excited—until I saw my great-grandma Alma watching an old black-and-white movie. I asked if she’d ever been to prom. She laughed, saying girls like her didn’t get asked back then.
That stuck with me. Alma had faced so much—raising four kids, losing my great-grandpa early, yet she was still the toughest, funniest woman I knew. So, I decided to take her to prom.
At first, she was skeptical about what to wear, but soon she had a sparkly blue dress, and I wore a matching tie. When we arrived, instead of weird looks, people cheered. Alma danced like no one’s business—twisting, swinging, even twerking! She owned the night.
Later, I found her alone, reflecting. She showed me a black-and-white photo of her and my great-grandpa Elias, who’d left for war before they could dance at prom. She’d always wondered what it would be like.
That night, Alma and I were crowned prom queen and king. On the way home, she shared a surprise: a letter from Elias’s old war buddy, Frank, who was moving nearby. They started meeting up, and months later, began ballroom dancing.
Alma was glowing—prom didn’t just give her a fun night, it gave her a new beginning. And it reminded me that life’s too short to wait for “someday.” Sometimes, you just have to live.
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