And we left with some nice objects by which to remember the experience. As the children made their final departure from the stage following curtain call, some members of the orchestra handed them pages from the score.

Our opera connection, a friend of mine from work, procured for Sophie a program autographed by Thomas Hampson.

She also gave Sophie a copy of The Daring Book for Girls, which contains chapters on everything a girl could want to know from how to tie a sari to the rules for four square, appropriate contents for every girl's toolbox, and traveling to Africa (surely more on this later).

One of the mothers also made a poster from her child's drawing (lots of drippy blood), and the children collected autographs. And our the mother we carpooled with gave Sophie a kit of paints for her Crocs—pretty cool!
When all the memories of the not-so-good have faded (the over-tired kids, the Bay Bridge traffic), we'll remember all that was good, which is quite a lot. I know it won't be too long before as I lie next to Sophie as she falls asleep, she'll say "Mama, tell me about the time I was in the opera. . . . "
1 comment:
Ooh, The Daring Book for Girls sounds like something I would like for myself!
I tagged you for meme, by the way, :)
Post a Comment