Tonight I missed my mom. For three of my six grandchildren, this was their first time at live theatre, and Surflight Theatre’s The Wizard of Oz did not disappoint. The productions are short, designed to hold even the most rambunctious child’s attention — ideal for introducing something that matters so much to me. My childhood memories of Oscar Hammerstein’s songs swirling through the room as my mother pushed the Hoover across the floors feel more vivid now that she’s gone. Imagination was her love language before I had a name for it, and tonight, she made her first appearance in Tessa Paige’s eyes.
From the moment the curtain opened, Tessa left her seat and never sat back down. She stood the entire show, eyes tracking every character as they came to life. When Glinda called for Happy Birthday singers, she was the one who climbed up on stage. She was the one who pulled me toward the cast afterward for a picture among them. I could almost feel her great-grandmother reaching out, wrapping her in the magic. That’s when I knew: she will always carry the gift of theatre her great-grandparents gave us.
Twenty years from now, when my daughters bring their own grandchildren to their first theatre production, I hope they feel the joy of watching theatre take hold of a child’s heart and think, Mom would have loved to see this. Because the magic was never really about the stage. It was about what imagination lets us keep.
foursetsofeyes 