Ever since I can remember I have loved going to the theater. Wearing a favorite dress and my mary-janes I would be bubbling with anticipation walking into the auditorium and seeing the massive sea of seats that swelled away from the stage.  By the time I was 18, I had probably spent more time in the theater (performing, watching, wishing) than anywhere else.  It’s not this way anymore and I do miss it dearly.  Whenever I go to the theater now to see a show, big or very small, I can’t help but picture myself backstage in the wings waiting for my cue to pirouette across the big empty stage.

Yesterday afternoon I was lucky enough to have the most amazing theater experience yet – in an auditorium filled with children.

As the theater lights darkened, my daughter slumped in her plush red velvet chair unaware of what was about to happen.  Then an actor appeared in a beam of light and danced across the stage with a long flowing ribbon.  My daughter’s eyes got wide and she climbed to the edge of her seat with a huge smile on her face “Wow! What’s that?!”  And as I struggled to control my tears of sheer joy, she watched with fascination as a wonderful troupe of actors told the story of The Velveteen Rabbit.

It was a spur of the moment decision to take her, I kept going back and forth worrying she was still too young to understand and really enjoy a show.  In the end I decided that she would probably at least sit still and would like the big folding seats – plus she loves to wear a fancy dress and sparkly shoes.  So we dressed for the show (which apparently is not the norm anymore – a sweatshirt? in an auditorium?? what is this, a Bears game?) and headed to the Wharton Center where my daughter experienced magic.  Who knows if it will become her home away from home, as it once was for me, but I hope she never loses this wonder for the theater.