Once Upon A December
from Anastasia
Some melodies live at the edge of memory—haunting, half-remembered, glowing with the light of something lost. “Once Upon a December” is one of those songs. Originally featured in the 1997 animated film Anastasia and later reimagined for Broadway, it has become an anthem of longing, identity, and the ache of remembering who you are.
The Song That Found Its Way Back
Set against the backdrop of a young woman’s search for her lost past, “Once Upon a December” is both personal and mythic. It begins like a whispered secret, then unfolds into a sweeping ballad filled with ghosts of ballrooms, chandeliers, and echoes of a vanished life.
There’s nostalgia here—but also resilience. Beneath the waltz-like rhythm and lyrical elegance lies a deeper truth: that even when everything else is gone, the music we carry in our hearts remains.
Stephen Flaherty’s haunting melody and Lynn Ahrens’ poignant lyrics struck a cultural chord the moment they were heard—and decades later, they still do. The song has transcended its original story to become a favorite among dreamers, romantics, and those who’ve ever felt out of place in their own timeline.
Like a Dream You Almost Remember
There are songs that stay with you—not because you heard them often, but because they felt like they were already waiting inside you. “Once Upon a December” is that kind of song. It doesn’t just play—it haunts, in the most beautiful way. It arrives like snowfall in moonlight, like the scent of something familiar on a winter breeze, like a memory that’s too tender to be fully remembered.
In Natalja’s interpretation, the music breathes with a different kind of magic. It’s not simply nostalgic—it’s transporting. Her voice feels like silk unraveling a fairytale at the edge of consciousness, where time blurs and emotion takes over. You’re not just listening; you’re stepping into a forgotten ballroom, where chandeliers still glimmer and shadows of the past sway in graceful circles across a frozen floor.
This version of “Once Upon a December” isn’t about the past—it’s about what the past leaves behind. Longing. Strength. Grace in silence. The kind of ache that makes you feel alive. Whether you’re wrapped in a blanket on a quiet night or lost in thought at a café window, let this performance be your companion—a soundtrack for solitude, imagination, and soft resilience.
Because we all carry a secret waltz in our hearts.
Let it play. Let it echo. Let it remind you who you are when the world falls still.