The other day my husband Bob and I attended a school assembly in which our oldest daughter Neva's Grade One class performed a few songs and a number of short plays for the rest of the school. The week of the concert, Neva had very excitedly told us how they rehearsed with "real live" microphones -- "for real, Mom!" - for the plays. But knowing my daughter as I do, I had my suspicions about the need for one.
And so it was, Bob and I found ourselves at the back of the gymnasium with a few other parents there to witness the confusion that is inherent to a gathering of twenty or more 6- and 7-year-olds. It quickly became evident the need for the microphone as child after child shyly spoke their muffled lines to no one in particular. Those who weren’t so shy had their lips pressed so close against the waffled orb that we couldn’t understand them anyway. And then there was Neva.
Neva shouted her lines so clearly into the microphone, I’m sure you could hear her three streets over. And when it came time to sing -- their voices amplified only by natural enthusiasm -- Neva’s voice was the one that could be heard over and above the piano and the other voices in the choir. Clear to the back of the gym and, thankfully, more in tune with the choir than she is when singing solo at home. Her expression was glorious - cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling - her spirit raw, unfettered. She was in her element.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
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