When my high school announced prom, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. I wasn’t dating anyone, and, to be honest, the whole event felt a bit overhyped.
Then one day, I noticed my great-grandma Alma, settled in her recliner, watching an old black-and-white movie. I turned to her and asked, “Hey, did you ever go to prom?”
She chuckled. “Darling, in my time, someone like me never got an invitation to prom.”
That comment stuck in my mind. Alma had faced so much in her life—raising four children, losing my great-grandpa far too soon, and still managing to be the strongest, funniest person I knew.
That was all the motivation I needed. I decided right then: I was going to take my great-grandma to prom.
At first, she thought I was kidding. “What on earth would I wear?” she joked, raising an eyebrow.
“Something spectacular,” I replied, grinning.
A week later, we found her a sparkly blue dress, and I picked out a matching tie. When we arrived at the venue, everyone’s attention immediately shifted to us.
I braced myself for odd stares or murmurs, but instead, applause broke out. My friends cheered, and I even saw the principal discreetly wiping his eyes.
And then Alma took over the dance floor—she didn’t just stand there swaying; she truly went for it. Twirling around, laughing, and doing a playful shimmy to a Bruno Mars track.
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