Outdone

My last blog post was about my youngest. Today I write about my eldest. That's her on the left -- the pretty one with the long hair.

Friday night last week, I sat and watched a Christmas program my daughter directed for a homeschool co-op she teaches at. This was the third show she’s directed for them. The first play was supposed to happen in May of 2020 and got postponed, of course, because of covid. Once they got permission to perform, she had to scramble to throw it all back together again in two weeks during the summer with a bunch of new cast members. She did me proud. It was trial by fire for a new director – I figured every play after that would be a breeze.

Her second play was last spring, and I was nervous for her as I watched. Folks, directing is hard. It’s a lot of pieces to pull together, especially in a small organization like this where she had very little assistance and the people who were willing to help had no theatre experience or knowledge. She had mostly brand new actors. She had limited rehearsal time. Her performance space was a church sanctuary, which limits you as well. But she pulled it off. She was exhausted when she was done, but it was a success, and again, I was so proud of her.

Friday night was show #3. And really, I wasn’t even nervous for her this time. She’s got this.

In fact, she had this in ways that I, a directing veteran, wouldn’t have had it. This Christmas program had two parts: her older students performed a one-act in the first half (a cutting she put together impressively from one of my full-length plays), and the little ones did a typical Christmas pageant in the second half (a witty little script she wrote herself).

It’s the little ones that I wouldn’t have had. Y’all, I watch my daughter with small children and marvel at the wonder. She’s a natural. This is her gift – her calling. The patience she has with these kiddos and the way she speaks truth into them awes me.

She also did most of her own tech. She pulled together props . . . she designed the sound . . . she made a shepherd costume for the one-act . . . she was even going to do the old-age makeup for a couple girls until they said they wanted to try it themselves.

I don’t tech, people. I have my limits, and there it is. I can only do so much – she was doing it all. She outdid me.

But this night had a particular challenge. This group’s yearly Christmas pageant had always been run by the choir director, a much-loved teacher who died of covid right before the school year started. My girl was suddenly asked to take over the program (she wrote that script in about 24 hours). Among children AND parents, the emotion was high in the sanctuary Friday night, and my daughter and the new young lady teaching the choir class felt the pressure to make sure this evening did justice and honor to the beloved Mrs. B. And it did. They paid appropriate tribute to a woman who touched many lives in the room, and they did it without trying to copy her but by operating from their own giftedness.

There is great joy in watching your progeny find themselves. Friday night was an evening of joy for this proud mama.