They still call it that, here. The Second Grade Christmas Program. Forty minutes of singing-and-swinging delight. Even costumes, for heaven's sake. Scott worked at home this morning so he could go witness Ellie's glorious performance (among the crowd). Did I mention that I've already seen it twice this year, not to mention the times I saw it in 2003 and 2005? Well I have. And it's just fine. Lovely, even. Because I had a tiny epiphany this morning. Here, I'll share it with you.
Nobody really goes to these programs to watch the program.
We go so our Ellies and our Jordans and our Kelseys and our Tanners see us watching them. Our Sams and our Evans and our Ashleys and our Haydens get all kinds of kicks out of our presence. The love to see us watching. And they learn to believe that they are worth our time, even the time we usually spend doing other (productive) things.
(Or taking a nap.)
We go and sit on the edge of our frozen folding chair, making eye contact and waving covertly so our sweeties will remember that once we were there. It may never be written on anyone's tombstone "Here lies my Mother. She came to all seventeen performances of the Third Grade Musical Revue."
But it will be written in someone's heart.