The day was like a dream. It was hot, more summer than spring. But when we got to the holding area, we were relieved by the shade from the cherry blossom trees and a slight breeze that caused the petals from the trees to rain down on us as more onlookers than I can count clamored to get pictures of the tiny living dolls.
She did look like a doll, that girl of mine. She looked so different, so unreal.
Then as the approached the stage, the breeze picked up some more and, as Abby noted, “made her kimono look really pretty”. And my once shy girl got up on a stage in front of hundreds of people and without the slightest bit of hesitation…
brought the house down.
The crowd loved them. They ate them up with a spoon. They applauded. They cheered. They rushed the stage like a mad pack of paparazzi in a photographic frenzy. That last bit may be an exaggeration.
But only a slight one.
I asked if she had been nervous and she said “not at all”. And I couldn’t help marvel at her ability to get up in front of hundreds of people and remain present in the moment enough to notice the breeze that ruffled her kimono.
And when we got home, me exhausted, her energized, she wished aloud that she had a performance every day.
Every day? I have a performer on my hands.
What about you? Are you a performer? Were you when you were a child?