In particular

You know what kinda makes me sad?  It makes me sad that we forget all of the little things that really characterize our experiences with people.  Even little annoyances—like teacher-deaf children and the same pop song every morning—can take a stale memory and make it real.  

Take tonight; for instance.  I wish that I could remember every single face that was in those choirs up on stage.  John singin’ “My Girl” like it’s nobody’s business; little Danielle singing “Somethings are Meant to Be” with as much enthusiasm and talent as a little 12-year old girl can muster; Jolly Old (his name is Nicholas, but we call him jolly old…and he’s hilarious) with a look that says, ‘We got this Miss Hagen’, William pretending he doesn’t like dancing around on stage but with a smirk that betrays how much fun he’s having.  

So many delightful people throughout my life but I remember so little of my time with them.

And yet there is also the feeling—the main imprint that an experience leaves—that we get to keep forever.  I get to remember what it feels like to stand in front of a choir and feel an incredible satisfaction and kinship, and a disbelief that we—all of us—did it.  We really all performed at our best, and that represented a whole lot of learning for just a couple of months of time.  Student teacher included.

Ha--I had 2 boys come up and start a song with an a cappella solo.  One stepped to the mic and whispered, 

“I’m gonna die!!”  I had to turn to the audience and say,

“He didn’t mean it!!”

Of course he did just fine. :)

Hey guess what?  I’m training for the best career EVER.  I feel pretty darn good about that.