Over the weekend, we went to a benefit concert for a local charity. It was a variety show of Christmas music, and Daughter No. 2 performed with her steel drum band. It was a lovely and festive evening with a choir, a brass ensemble, soloists, and an interpretive dance team.
Afterwards, husband and I stood in the lobby for what felt like hours while the steel band loaded their equipment back into the truck, and we waved and said "hello" to everyone we knew. I do love being part of a community.
As the door to the truck was shut, I walked back into the auditorium to find No. 2, and I stood at the back of the near-empty room watching the stage. Out of no where, it seemed, a little girl about four or five years old walked down the aisle toward me looking like a snow elf in her coat and hat and scarf. There was no one else around, so I looked down at the cherub and smiled. She stopped in front of me and said "hello." I thought she would keep going, but she was planted there ready for a conversation. I said "hello" back, and she asked me what my name was.
"Robyn. What's your name?"
"Marci."
"It's nice to meet you, Marci."
"It's nice to meet you, too."
No. 2 joined me at that point, so I smiled at Marci and said, "OK, I'll see you later." She turned around to head back toward the stage and said, "See you later. Make new friends." This last bit, "make new friends," came out in a sing-song voice with such lilting inflection and pure kindness that No. 2 and I just stood there amazed at the ability this little girl has to bring random joy.
If my visiting cherub had been an adult, I wouldn't have thought much of it, but that a little kid could be so thoughtful and unafraid made the little exchange memorable. It was so memorable, in fact, that we both thought we'll remember it forever. We'll see.
If nothing else, I hope I remember to make new friends and to do it as easily as a five-year-old who approaches people without fear of rejection.
Afterwards, husband and I stood in the lobby for what felt like hours while the steel band loaded their equipment back into the truck, and we waved and said "hello" to everyone we knew. I do love being part of a community.
As the door to the truck was shut, I walked back into the auditorium to find No. 2, and I stood at the back of the near-empty room watching the stage. Out of no where, it seemed, a little girl about four or five years old walked down the aisle toward me looking like a snow elf in her coat and hat and scarf. There was no one else around, so I looked down at the cherub and smiled. She stopped in front of me and said "hello." I thought she would keep going, but she was planted there ready for a conversation. I said "hello" back, and she asked me what my name was.
"Robyn. What's your name?"
"Marci."
"It's nice to meet you, Marci."
"It's nice to meet you, too."
No. 2 joined me at that point, so I smiled at Marci and said, "OK, I'll see you later." She turned around to head back toward the stage and said, "See you later. Make new friends." This last bit, "make new friends," came out in a sing-song voice with such lilting inflection and pure kindness that No. 2 and I just stood there amazed at the ability this little girl has to bring random joy.
If my visiting cherub had been an adult, I wouldn't have thought much of it, but that a little kid could be so thoughtful and unafraid made the little exchange memorable. It was so memorable, in fact, that we both thought we'll remember it forever. We'll see.
If nothing else, I hope I remember to make new friends and to do it as easily as a five-year-old who approaches people without fear of rejection.
Comments
Though as a musician I must chide you for standing in the lobby and watching the band load all the gear. We LOVE people who stand and watch while tutting and looking at their watches.
Hee hee.
Good post