2003-03-07 - 9:52 p.m.
HELPING WITH MOTHERS
Most of the people who attend the family service at synagogue have younger children or are grandparents of younger children. We are unusual. We attend although we have teenagers. We have to. Kat sings with the children�s choir. That choir is a lot of elementary school students and Kat. Kat helps with the choir. Sometimes, such as tonight, I help with the mothers.
Tonight�s unintended entertainment came from two small children: one in kindergarten and one even younger than that. The kindergartener is in the choir. There was Kat, in the back, towering over all the others even before she puts on the boots with the high heels, standing next to this sweet little girl. First, the little girl was distracted by Kat�s dress. Kat did a remarkable job of not missing a note while the little girl stroked Kat�s velour dress all over. I know Kat didn�t miss a note because a lot of children were not there this time and, because she�s older, Kat�s voice soars over the younger children if not enough of them are there.
Now, being stroked by a little girl all over is not necessarily a problem----but Kat is very ticklish. Kat can tolerate a firm touch but this little girl was just rubbing lightly. Kat was singing, grinning, and gently trying to extract herself. She wiggled and sang. She used one hand to restrain the little girl�and sang. What finally saved her is that the little girl became moved by the spirit and suddenly began to dance up there. The choir stood straight and �properly� and this little girl swayed and dipped and twirled behind Kat. The little girl�s mother kept trying to send her signals to stop and Kat, who saw that, was trying gently to get the little girl back on track.
Then, almost as quickly as it started, the dancing stopped. All was quiet. I could almost see Kat breathe a sigh of relief----until the hand twirling began. The little girl�s mother was dying. She�s a teacher at a school in the community and a stickler for proper behavior in students. Many of her students and their parents were there. But she couldn�t take action without disrupting the service and the choir so she just hid her head.
Eventually, the choir finished and came and took seats by their parents. The mom looked as though a great burden had been lifted. She felt better. She felt safer. She breathed her sigh of relief too soon.
Instead of a service, the director of education, who was filling in for the rabbi, told a story. She wanted to involve the children so she called all of them up to the bima (the �stage� area) to help her with her story. They came up. So did the little girl but her behavior was perfect. But her little brother followed her up and provided the next part of the entertainment.
He climbed up on the side to the top of the bima. He cocked his head and listened. Then he started imitating the body language of the director. He started babbling. He was up there, leading his own service. His mother, mortified all over again, came up to try to get him. She wasn�t fast enough. He decided to supplement his sermon. He decided it was time to show us even more. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and flapped it, displaying his belly button for all to see. That did it. His mother got him off the bima and left the sanctuary.
So, as one of the veteran parents, I knew I had a job to do. I found the mother at the oneg, the snack that follows the service and I told my own story. I told her about a kindergartener in a red corduroy jumper with a dog on the pocket. I told her about how this little girl stood in the very front of the choir. I explained that the little girl put her hands on the bottom of her skirt and showed the entire congregation her underwear----repeatedly.
And then I told her that this very blond little girl had done it almost exactly ten years ago�and that she was the tall girl in the boots helping to direct the choir.
LAST YEAR: Being a Politician (Yuck!)
LAST FIVE ENTRIES:
Pity My Children
The Return
Disaster Date
A Wonder Like That
Laughter
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
