Excited voices fill the gymnasium as seats are taken and personal space disappears.
The first of many programs will soon start, and I don’t want to miss a second of it. Camera ready, my eyes scan the room and lock on the doorway.
Finally, signs of life appear and I wait for the familiar face, the boy of small stature. He scans the room too, but I know he won’t ever find his personal cheering section. There are far too many in the audience tonight.
The little bodies in their fanciest Christmas attire shuffle in line to their spot in the front.
The songs are boisterous, the words full of hope and excitement for Christmas morning and the jolly fat man.
His hands in the pockets, he concentrates hard on each and every word and sings his kindergarten heart out.
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After the last song is sung and “Merry Christmas”-es hollered, we wait for the performers to exit and the paths to clear.
We make our way to our star’s classroom to gather him up and take him home. It’s been a momentous event, watching from the bleachers, and NOW…
Now, Christmas can come.
