Good Dreams

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.

27 thoughts on “Good Dreams

  1. mimi2seven says:

    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.

  2. Denise says:

    A Midsummer Nights Dream meets… Hannah Montana. Nope, cannot imagine it. 🙂 The gangsta pose and the enraptured face I can imagine, though.

  3. Jen says:

    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.

  4. SimplySara says:

    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!

  5. Ann Voskamp @ Holy Experience says:

    “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~)

  6. Teresa says:

    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!

  7. Remodeling Guy says:

    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!

  8. Katie m. Berggren says:

    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

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