My girls had their very first school concert the other day. They’ve been seeing their brother’s concerts for years now and thus were THRILLED to be standing on stage the gym floor, belting out some tunes.
This year, the theme was kind of like a sock hop. Poodle skirts were worn by those girls whose mothers had lots of time to acquire/make them. My girls wore the other costume – jeans and white shirt.
Sigh.
However, my twinges of guilt over not supplying the poodle skirt vanished with the first note of the concert. I love watching school shows! I love them more than just about any other kind of entertainment. School concerts are filled with top performers and wiggly children and shy people who would rather be anywhere else than singing in public in front of a large audience of parents. (I had fallen in the latter category as a child – my heart goes out to the children who hate to perform!)
Three classes were represented at this show – 2nd graders, 5th graders and the kindergarteners. They placed the kindergartners next to the fifth graders. It was fascinating to see the growth we can expect in the next 5 years. The older girls were so tall and poised and beautiful. The kindergartners were so small and tiny.
In the kindergarten group, one girl in particular was not enjoying the show. She cried; she held her arms out beseeching her mother to rescue her. And well into the first song, the mother obliged, and the little girl was whisked away.
The little girl next to the shy child decided that she really didn’t want to participate either. She didn’t cry; she didn’t wait for her mother to rescue her; she just casually walked off the risers, done with the show.
That left the boy on the end standing alone. And when the kindergarteners all sang “Stand by Me,” and placed their arms around their neighbor, this boy had no neighbor to embrace.
So he stood there, singing passionately, and stretched his arm out, pretending to embrace the neighbors who’d fled.
A hilarious moment in a night full of emotion.
My girls were nervous prior to the show. I could tell. But they rose to the occasion. They sang. They did the dance moves. They embraced their neighbor when it was time to do so.
But in my mind, the night belonged to the little boy who didn’t let the absence of a neighbor inhibit him from performing as directed. He stood; he sang; he embraced the air; he was completely engaged in the show.
And the first school concert for my girls was a concert that was wonderful to watch.
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