It is that time of year again. Children in ballet studios across the country are preparing for their annual productions of Pyotr Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker.

Most efforts begin in the same chaotic manner. The instructor’s words rise against the clamor of 50 children’s voices, each vying for their own particular kind of attention. It is a glorious chaos.

My wife and I started this ritual nine years ago when our daughters were ages 3 and 4. Every November since has included preparation, practice and performances. Weekends are surrendered and most weeknights yield to the increasing demands of rehearsals.

Nine years have given us the benefit of the long view. We have watched as dancers enter the studio stumbling and leave gracefully, some even to find their way to the professional stage. It is at once humbling and inspiring. The evolution of a dancer is a beautiful and poetic transformation to observe.

We were blessed to find a company that highlights all of the dancers. The 4-year-olds will appear nearly as many times on stage as those who have been in the company for years. Backstage, mothers rush to change costumes for the next chapter in Clara’s dream and children move easily and happily through the organized chaos.

There is a strong sense of community that develops among the families involved. Fathers build and strike the sets; mothers sew, organize and direct. Parents dance as well, serving as elaborate, if not nervous, animated props.

I have been in all but one of my daughters’ performances. I have had an onstage seat watching helplessly as they grew and matured. I clearly remember their wide-eyed wonder of Clara in their early years, a role to which each aspired. This year, as my youngest takes the stage, they will both have realized that particular ambition.

I can see that same look of wonder in the eyes of the younger dancers now. Five-, 6- and 7-year-old girls look up and dream. Many of them will find their way to the starring role and behind them another cadre of hopeful Clara’s will look skyward.

As it is staged in my daughters’ company, The Nutcracker performance offers profound insight into the evolution of a dancer. Each new episode in Clara’s dream highlights one or more of the nine levels offered at the studio. Audience members can witness the complete transformation and maturity of dancers in a single performance. It does tend to inspire awe.

What is not so evident is the effort the performance represents. Most of the dancers spend six to nine hours a week in classes to develop the skills necessary to execute the demanding choreography of ballet. Every performance is backed by hundreds of hours of preparation by each dancer.

Edgar Degas, the great impressionist painter who so skillfully captured the essence of dance in his painting, said this about ballet: “The dance instills in you something that sets you apart, something heroic and remote.” I think he was right. There is something heroic, hauntingly singular and remote about the ballet dancer. They are at once connected and alone.

Perhaps it is that isolation coupled with the demand to engage with the audience that is so evocative and so painfully appealing. Regardless of where you find yourself this holiday season, I hope you will seek out a local production of The Nutcracker and witness firsthand the heroics of ballet.

— Tim Durnin is a father and husband. He can be reached at tdurnin@gmail.com for comments, discussion, criticism, suggestions and story ideas.