I was young, probably nine years old. I was ice skating for the first time. With my brand new, stiff white ice skates, I cautiously stepped onto the ice with my dad. We did a few laps with me holding onto the side. After a few minutes of warming up, my dad started to create more distance between us. It was like teaching an infant to walk, almost. My mission was to skate just far enough to reach him, so I could grab onto his arm before stumbling. After he had skated the appropriate distance, I let go of the wall with the intentions of getting to him on my own. Two boys, a little bit older than I was--probably twelve or thirteen--skated by me, clearly advanced skaters. Just as they passed, I lost my balance. My skates skidded out from under me, and before I knew it, I was sprawled out on the ice. I sat there for a few seconds, thinking about what the best way to proceed was. Suddenly, a hand appeared, as if sent from the heavens. It was the hand of one of the boys who had just passed me. In that fateful moment, his blonde hair appeared to have a golden halo. His blue eyes cut into my very soul. "Are you okay?" he asked me. I can't remember what I said--I can only hope I managed to get out a "yes" or maybe even a head nod. But I do remember that mystical aura the boy took on as he helped me up after my embarrassing fall. It is times like those when a female realizes how influential the politeness of a man can be. This idea of chivalry--men looking out for women out of sheer respect and politeness--can be so refreshing, regardless of how independent the woman is, or her ability to fend for herself.
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