My twins were just part of a whirlwind theater camp. In eight days they churned out a production of Beauty and the Beast. Nine, if you count the performances. The girls had several costume changes as they morphed from village maidens to wolves and napkins. My favorite scene was when the stage was packed with dancing forks and spoons, a
cheese grater, a whisk, spinning plates, salt and pepper shakers. Fifty kids were all in motion, without a crash.
The song I anticipated was Tale as Old as Time, and it was a good thing I was not expected to comment, because my throat was lumpy. The teapot's crystal voice poured over the audience, like a nice cup of Earl Gray.
Finding you can change. Learning you were wrong.
It
helped that she is my twins' dear friend, and I love her. In fact I love her mother, and her grandmother. The sweetness of her words mingled with my wish that she never change at all. I am not the only one to think so either. She happened to win the award last month for The Nicest Kid in the Whole School. They engraved her name on a plaque.
Watching a story where someone can evolve from beastly to kind helps me believe that I too can become truly human.
Maybe I can even escape crashing into anyone.
