Last night I sat in a darkened gym with my family, while my fourth-grade son and his fourth-grade cohorts performed their annual musical. It was a lyrical and poetic look at dreams--the good ones, the bad ones, the ones to which ten year olds hold tightly. They performed their hearts out, complete with dancing trees, Native Americans, ballerinas with glittery hair, a pajama-clad chorus, even a spooky skeleton. All ten year olds, of course. Think A Midsummer Night's Dream meets Hannah Montana.
They meandered in and out of their songs, poetry, and choreography. At one point, a group of six stepped up to the microphones.
"I dream of people who are kind to each other," said the girl on the end.
"I dream of a chance to make a difference," said another.
A lanky but graceful boy in the middle stepped forward to speak his lines. He towered a good 12 or 18 inches over his fellow fourth graders. Hubs leaned over and whispered, "I dream of that kid's NBA contract." I swatted him and stifled laughter; our media cabinet is already too full of video tapes in which Hubs' wisecracks have made my arms jiggle.
In the aisle next to me, Corrie rolled around on the floor, occasionally hopping up to flash her on-stage brother a thumbs up (and he flashed back a look that said, "I'VE NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE, I SWEAR."). Joseph stood in the back of the gym, atop a pile of folded gymnast mats, laughing and sweating with a random collection of other little brothers. The gym teacher tossed fruitless shushes in their direction every so often. I shot her a look of apology; I shot Joseph a different look altogether.
Stephen, who was, for tonight, a little blonde-haired Native American, delivered his poetic lines with great poise, though he wrapped it up with a curious gangsta pose. I'm sometimes not sure I understand that boy, dawg.
I heard a gasp; I looked over to see Corrie staring, jaw open and eyes huge, into something I couldn't see. I followed her gaze. It turns out that she, sitting at the base of the spotlight, could look upwards and see all the dust particles bouncing around in the garish light. I can't imagine what she must have thought of all that magic, but she spent the rest of the play in a state of bliss, laughing and pointing at the miracle happening right in front of her.
When it was over, we all clapped and cheered. The students, who had been on risers on the ground, took turns in rows walking across the stage. Stephen's friend V, who is in a wheelchair, was gently lifted to the stage by some fine, strapping dads, and V had his curtain call too. The crowd cheered louder.
It was a good night. The only thing that could have possibly made it any better was ice cream.
So we went to get ice cream.
It was a great night.
Ah, Ice cream makes everything THAT MUCH BETTER, doesn't it?
I sure hope you got an Oreo mint blizzard...I'll just go ahead and live vicariously through you, k?
Posted by: Amanda - VintageDutchGirl | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 12:57 AM
Pure magic! These are the times, no?
Posted by: Dana~Are We There Yet? | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 01:24 AM
What a great memory for you and your family! They are blessed to have you as their historian
Posted by: leslie | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 04:47 AM
What a beautiful snapshot of life as a parent......just the ordinary stuff of life with children....yet so precious. You reminded me that every day is full of ordinary, precious stuff if I just take the time to notice and ponder.
Posted by: mimi2seven | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 06:14 AM
Wonderful memories to keep forever.
Posted by: Carla | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 06:21 AM
Can you adopt me? You guys get to eat ice cream a lot. : )
Posted by: Becky | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 06:51 AM
mmm. Sounds perfect. So sweet that your little Corrie was in rapture, and even got to take one of the performers home.
Posted by: AmberLee | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 07:37 AM
Love that. Great post, Shannon. Great night, dawg!
Posted by: Denise | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 07:56 AM
A Midsummer Nights Dream meets... Hannah Montana. Nope, cannot imagine it. :-) The gangsta pose and the enraptured face I can imagine, though.
Posted by: Denise | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 08:25 AM
I can relate to watching the dust. I remember being totally absorbed & fascinated by the floaters as a child.
I can also relate to the husband cracking me up at the most inappropriate times. Funerals, weddings, etc. Of course, I do the same to well...whoever is close enough to hear.
Great glimpse of your family.
Posted by: Jen | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 08:42 AM
Awe. Loved that post! Thank you for sharing such a sweet moment!
Posted by: charlotte | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 08:48 AM
Seriously you are the best story-teller ever! I totally felt like I was there :)
(I too have a hubby who likes to make wise cracks whenever possible!)
Great post!
Posted by: SimplySara | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 08:52 AM
I love nights like that! The are the best memories.
Posted by: rrmama | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 08:57 AM
Gotta have ice cream on a night like that!
Posted by: Lisa | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 09:38 AM
LOVE this! You are so talented, friend.
Posted by: Melanie | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 10:22 AM
Oh, a perfect night. Love those.
Steph
Posted by: Adventures In Babywearing | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 11:57 AM
I could see every bit of it - and felt like I was there.
Your writing keeps me coming back - over and over. Thank you for sharing it.
Posted by: Sarah @ Short Stop | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 12:27 PM
great post. I'm going to my fourth grader's show on the 7th
Posted by: kisatrtle | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 01:33 PM
How fun!! Memories!! Ice cream makes everything yummier and jigglier. LOL
Posted by: Jena (Organizing Mommy) | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 01:51 PM
These are the good ol' days...
Posted by: Ashleigh (Heart and Home) | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 04:44 PM
"A great painting, or
symphony, or play
doesn't diminish us,
but enlarges
us, and we, too, want
to make our own cry of
affirmation to the
power of
creation behind the
universe."
~ Madeleine L'Engle, Circle of Quiet
Thank you for taking us to the play, Shannon... enlarging our hearts with such a shimmering night too.
(And I think my enlarged upper arms jiggled with Mr. Rocks zinger too. ~warm smile~)
Posted by: Ann Voskamp @ Holy Experience | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 09:13 PM
That is a darling snipett of life!
Posted by: MooBeeMa | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 09:44 PM
Aww - so sweet! You have a knack for describing life in such a beautiful way :)
Posted by: Daiquiri | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 10:28 PM
Precious, precious times! :)
Posted by: Jen | Friday, March 27, 2009 at 11:43 PM
Love your blog and that I found it tonight. Hope you will stop by my blog for a visit.
I am new to blogging and I am loving all my new friends.
I am giving away my first EVER BLOG PRIZE.
From the comments I have already received, it appears to be something a little different.
I have been so touched by the comments that I have decided to give 2 boxes . They will be the $100 deluxe size. I really do want to bless people!!! I have decided that giving is life at its BEST. The drawing will be late afternoon on Saturday...wow that's tomorrow!
Posted by: Teresa | Saturday, March 28, 2009 at 02:44 AM
That sounds wonderful! I love staring at the particles in a beam of light too! I can entertain myself with a flashlight! Just a big kid I guess.
As for ice cream and performing arts...it reminds me of the coolest thing ever; well at least it ranks amongst the coolest things ever. We went to see The Lion King in London (absolutely amazing experience) and during the intermission they served ice cream right in the seats! How cool is that!
Have a great weekend!
Posted by: Remodeling Guy | Saturday, March 28, 2009 at 07:44 AM
Ah, I'll be there someday - when my kids are old enough to have school musicals - then I'll look back teary-eyed on these times right now and only remember the good times :) Thanks for sharing :)
Sincerely, Katie
Posted by: Katie m. Berggren | Monday, March 30, 2009 at 10:59 PM