By Scott Bartlett '04

Right after lunch on a Friday, Sarah Butler '05 trekked trek across the quad and down into the girls' locker room of the dance studio. She changed into her leotard and laced up her two-inch high black strap dance shoes.

She had a typical day in class, not particularly enthralled with the modern piece being taught after a long, grueling week of getting back into the routine here at Deerfield.

It was the last time she would dance - the last time she would leap, spin or slide - for six months.

A deflated Winnie the Pooh balloon dawdles in the back corner of Sarah's room in the Dewey house. In another corner stands an enormous "Chicago" billboard, taking up almost a quarter of the room space.

Twelve dried red roses hang over the window, complimenting the somber mood produced by the rain dripping down the panes of glass.

Sarah's right foot protrudes from under the Lilly Pulitzer style bedspread, its pinks and yellows vibrant against the gloom. The foot has nail polish to match the bedding but also wears a scar two inches in length running just below the ankle bone.

Despite the dim and lonely conditions, a smile, wider than most and certainly more full of life than any explodes from under the bright eyes of Sarah Butler.

She danced seriously since middle school. Last summer, Sarah decided she wanted to become a professional dancer. She attended a program called American Theatre Dance and described the experience as the best two weeks of her life.

She got the idea of dancing for living. After college, she wants to be Broadway performer. Trying to realize her goal of being a "Triple Threat' (singer, actor, dancer), Sarah came into her own this fall as a premier actress and dancer here at Deerfield. Not only was she slotted to be the principal dancer in the Fall Dance Showcase pieces but she also scored the lead in "Fools", the fall play.

Despite the buildup and the cancellation of Heritage Day, hurricane Isabel produced nothing more than a few spits of rain, some broken tree branches, one broken heel, and two compressed vertebrae.

On that day, as Sarah was leaving the Memorial Building after practicing her lines, she scurried barefoot across the marble floor and out the side door.

Not even a rub on the nose of the Deerfield Boy could have prevented what occurred next. Sarah, still barefoot, began her descent down the routine six steps. Paying more attention to a truck that she had to avoid, her foot slipped on the top step.

She fell down the remaining stairs, smashing her ankle, and then planting viciously on her backside. "If I had hit my head, I could have died," Sarah stated, recanting what the doctors had told her, adding, "God was definitely on my side."

Sarah has remained positive through her attitude and the support she has received from her family. She first showed her perseverance the night of the accident when she crutched over to the ZOX concert, more concerned about missing ballet class in the morning than the pain streaking through her body.

On Saturday morning, she woke to shooting pains in her back and a foot that had "swollen up like a pumpkin." "I just started to cry when they told me, because I couldn't dance," she said. Her true passion and love of dance seeped from her heart and was evident with every word.

A few days later, Sarah woke from surgery with a screw in her heel, a protective boot and a full-body brace preventing any movement. She lay there in bed, surrounded by her family.

Sarah's older brother Michael '04 was there the first night of the accident. "He was literally here, out of breath, within two minutes of my call," she said. Her eyes sparkled as she said, "You can't ask for a better brother."

Perhaps the true heroes of the day are Sarah's parents from Milledgeville, a small town just outside St. John, New Brunswick, Canada.

In a town where, everyone knows everyone, Sarah's parents were able to secure free DVD rentals from the local Blockbuster. Besides the material comforts, Mr. and Mrs. Butler have also provided a type of companionship that few can provide.

Mr. Butler, who works for an airline, decided to take a medical leave from work and trade for two weeks of vacation time in order to come stay here. While staying in a house nearby courtesy of the Academy, he has taken Sarah to every class she has attended, an ambitious feat considering she had to sit down and lie in a bed with her brace on.

Sarah's mother makes the nine-hour drive to Western Massachusetts every weekend. "I'm really close with my parents, it's never awkward to talk about stuff, and it's nice to have someone with me," Sarah said.

Sarah hopes to soon walk again without crutches and without the brace that she refers to as "quite the piece of armor" after Thanksgiving.

She has already started attending all her classes. She is already baffling the doctors with her high tolerance for pain. She claims "normal" people would still be on pain relievers.

Normal she is definitely not, as it is not everyday someone has the strength of character to get on with her life after a devastating injury.

The speed at which she has recovered, mentally and physically is phenomenal. As for dancing, she hopes to be back on stage sometime this spring, "knock on wood."

The door to Sarah's room swings open. After peeping her head through the crack of the door, like a child playing hide and go seek, Alexandra Traber '02 traipses into the room, packages in hand. Two years ago, Alexandra was a proctor on the corridor McAllister One.

Alexandra had driven up on fall break from Georgetown University to visit her ex-proctee. The reunion was characterized by hugs, cookies for all and most of all gossip about the girls from the old dorm.

Although unable to move fluidly, Sarah maintains her energetic way. She is a model of fifteen-year-old resiliency.

The light of the window shines on Sarah, but it is her inner light, the desire to recover that shines out from her. She has not viewed her misfortune as a setback, but has accepted its challenge, growing more determined to impress the world everyday.

Her story is sad. Her method of dealing with that story is inspiring. In a way, things are clearer now for Sarah; she knows now more than ever how much she loves dance. "You don't know what you have until it's gone" she said, adding with a wink, "People will see how much I love dance when I'm back on stage."