The girls' had their school holiday performances this week. The cuteness is age old and the songs the same as ever. Seated in my folding chair, time stopped for a moment in that little room as the experience of their sweet performances affixed itself in my memory forever. The excitement and anxiety of my own school pageants in the National Cathedral, the musty smells, the warm floor under my feet, and the amazing echoes visited me during a brief daydreamy moment. And I dabbled in a little advanced-nostaglia for the days when the girls are too old to sing Rudolph with such gusto.
This time will pass. It passing.
Stella saw a friend she hadn't seen in a month the other day and greeted her with, 'you look so different!' 'Oh, I know,' said her friend. 'I've lost like eight teeth.'
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| Stella was born to be on stage. She stole Rev. Cecil William's mic out of his hand when he baptized her at Glide. |
Zoey, on the other hand, hates being the center of attention. Note which way she's facing:
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