Last week was my grandson Jackson's Holiday Concert at school. They combined the 4th and 5th grade band with the chorus and orchestra. Jackson plays the trombone and it's adorable. Not just Jackson, the whole thing is adorable. You didn't need to know anyone in the concert to enjoy it.
Jackson did a "Tebow" at the beginning and end of his set and I laughed so hard I cried. If you're not a fan of football you may not know that the word "Tebow" (the Denver Bronco's quarterback) is now a verb. It means giving thanks to the Lord above by bending down on one knee, blessing yourself, and pointing toward the sky. "Tebowing" has become the new "Planking." I'm not a fan of tebowing when its played out on the football field, but here in auditorium of Jacksons school, it was a moment I will not soon forget.
My eyes teared up again when the chorus sang a song in hebrew, a song I had never heard before and had no idea what it was about. It was simple and strong, and beautiful. When it was over, their teacher turned to the crowd and said, "I am so lucky, my job gives me goosebumps." It was a genuine and unrehearsed response and I thought how lucky these kids are to have such a fabulous teacher!
A girl in the back row of the chorus sang with such reverence and joy that you could tell this was her gift. She sang with her eyes closed, she sang with no ego. It didn't matter that she was hidden in the back, to the far left. It didn't matter that she was one of 25 in the chorus. She didn't need a solo. She was happy to sing and her love of song filled the room. How do you not cry when you witness something this pure.
Paralyzed with fright, a little boy in an argyle sweater, stood front and center on the stage and focused on his feet. Every time he looked up, he'd start to gag and you could hear the front row moan, "oh no, oh no!" When it was over, his knee's buckled as he walked off the stage. I cried when his family greeted him. "You did it!" they cheered.
Watching the relatives made me cry. Seeing them, with their big goofy grins, sitting perfectly erect, stretching to get a good view. Camera's pointed, waiting patiently for their little one to look their way.
You could feel the love and pride. It was all around me. I bathed in it and I remembered, like it was yesterday, when my son, Kerry was young.
Kerry went to the same school as Jackson. He even had some of the same teachers. It was a magical glimpse of time past mixed with the magnificence of the present.
Jackson and Kerry
Sometimes I hide my tears behind my program, and other times I let them slide. Last week, at Jackson's concert, the drops of my tears were in perfect sync with the beat of Jacksons foot, as he bobbed his head and blew on his trombone.