angels in the footlights

*

5:22 am – A stage whisper – “Mama? Mama?”

I walked away from the computer and made my way up the stairs toward the little voice. “Darb? What are you doing up, honey? It’s not even 5:30 yet”

“But, Mama! TODAY IS THE DAY!”

I couldn’t help but smile as I urged her back to bed with a promise to wake her after my shower.

Today was indeed the big day. She would play not one, but TWO parts in her after school creative arts production. For weeks she’d been walking around the house running her lines. The Miller’s Daughter and Gretel. Both of the parts she wanted. Yes, life was good.

The big moment arrived.

The nervous energy was palpable. Parents readied their video cameras and scrambled to silence their cell phones. Little feet scampered back and forth behind the curtain. The delightful, barely controlled chaos of an elementary school play.

I found Matt in the second row right behind Kendall, who was sitting with her classmate L and her twin sister, A. I asked him if he thought it was ’safe’ to have her a row ahead of us. In the FRONT row. Able to bolt up in the middle of the show. Or run on stage. He nodded, tilting his head toward L. My dear, sweet L. L, who I am convinced is a thirty year-old sage in a 6 year-old’s body. L, who takes it upon herself to look out for Kenz like a little guardian angel.

As we waited for the show to begin, Kendall started to squirm. She lifted her legs, banging her wooden chair loudly against its base. L put a gentle hand on the chair and made a shushing sign. Ever, ever so sweetly. Not bossy, not overbearing. Helping. Guiding.

Kenz was characteristically restless.

L dug into her bag and pulled out a snap bracelet – the kind that start as a straight piece of material and then roll as you slap them on. She snapped it onto her own wrist, showing Kendall how it worked. Then she asked her if she’d like a turn. Kendall eagerly reached for it.

She couldn’t quite get it to work. L took it and showed her again, then handed it back so that she could work on it herself.

I leaned over L’s shoulder. “Thank you so much for sharing that with her, sweetie. That’s so nice of you.”

She shrugged. “I put it in my backpack because I knew she would be here.”

I turned to her mom with my mouth hanging open. She shrugged, mimicking her daughter. “It’s just what she does,” she said.

This child is a gift far greater than any I could design.

She embodies compassion, understanding, empathy, caring and generosity. At six.

I thought back to a post I wrote a year ago. It was a story about sisterly love. It was about angels guarding my baby girl and keeping her safe. I thought about how lucky we are to have had so many angels along our path.

The show began.

Kendall clapped with the crowd and sat back down quickly the couple of times that she stood up. She only said, “There’s Darby!” three times. She only told us “They’re ALL bowing now.” twice. She only stood up to bow with them (thankfully right at her chair) once. I’d call it a huge success.

Darby shined. She lit up the stage with humor and energy and light. She bathed in laughter and appreciative applause.

She was thrilled. She looked and acted like an angel.

Yes, angels were everywhere today.

*