Life is filled with so many hard ‘little and big’ lessons. Some we learn through watching and others we learn by living. Today was a busy day which had me again rushing out the door coffee cup and papers in hand. After a crazy morning followed by a solid lunch hour of choir practices, I was out the school door with daughters in tow for the West Prince Music Festival. I had devoted my own dinner hour to the four school choirs, so I had little time to eat, clean up, do hair and practice with my own two girls before we were on our way to O’Leary. I had not allowed myself TOO much time (as that wouldn’t be like me AT ALL!), but I hadn’t left myself entirely to the last minute either. When we arrived, I was only 5 minutes behind schedule according to my calculations.
So you can imagine my surprise when, as we walked in the door, I heard my youngest daughter’s name being called from the front. I had barely stepped inside the facility, and was still wrestling with a stack of papers, my purse, a dripping wet coat and swinging water bottle when I saw my two daughters rushing to the front of the auditorium, with one of them making her way to the grand piano on stage, front and center.
I was myself in a daze, wondering how things had moved so quickly along that we were already at the time the youngest was to play. How could I have miscalculated the times so poorly? Then again…
To make matters worse- all manner of things was running through my head. I realized that the daughter that had been rushed on stage was also the one performing on stage for the first time. She was the one who gets embarrassed more easily of the two and she is the one most likely to be rattled by such an incident. So, with all these thoughts bouncing around in my head, I started up the aisle toward my daughter, who was now sitting at the piano so as to play her piece. You can imagine both our surprise when it was announced that actually, she WASN’T to play right then: that they had only called her name because they were just checking to see if she was there.
It was a courtesy call, so to speak.
This might be a minor incident in any other child’s life, but for the One of whom I write, it was horrifying. We sat down in our seat to wait the half an hour until she would officially play, but the damage was already done. She was mortified and began quietly sobbing into her sweater. I could think of nothing else to say but to murmur over and over again that is was okay, it was okay. And to hold her tight as I wracked my brain for the ‘right’ words to say.
For her, quite honestly, it wasn’t okay. She had been publicly embarrassed and this was not something she could easily overcome.
We eventually left the sanctuary and found a quiet place to talk about the experience. She shared her feelings and I tried to console her. Eventually, another mother came along and tried to convey the insignificance of such a minor mistake (that is, getting up on stage when it wasn’t your turn) while I nodded my head in affirming ways. My daughter wasn’t really buying it.
Eventually, we returned to the festivities. Only to find two other girls crying: one who had made a few mistakes in her piece and another quite possibly fraught with nerves. It was an interesting place to be for a while, and as a bystander, my heart went out to all the performers who are so very brave and valiant to take their music to the stage in such a public arena. It takes courage to perform in front of an audience.
All in all, my daughter was able to learn the protocols for performance on stage (unfortunately, through trial and error) but also she was able to see that she was not the only one going through a ‘moment’ this afternoon. These learning experiences are just part of discovery and growth, and they need not make us feel inadequate, incompetent or lacking in any way. Life goes on, as does the show- and we live and learn both through our mistakes as well as through our triumphs.
She ended up performing amazingly well. I was so proud of her and she was proud of herself. We worked through the awkwardness of the preliminaries and when we got to the performance, she was feeling relaxed and ready to go. When I asked her tonight if she would ever do this again, she responded with a yes.
Even if she doesn’t, I am glad that she was able to learn/confirm something about herself today that might not have been completely clear in her mind: that she is one resilient little gal. Made her mama proud.
And a pretty darn good piano player to boot! Did I mention…TWO GOLD STARS!!!!
Luella Bredin says
Good job, Mary Anne!! Performing is great, but going on when you feel troubled or embarrassed is the bigger victory!! You did not give up–that is real character!!