It seems that adults take their children out for some entertainment...but in essence, I think they get even more out of it than sometimes the child. Yesterday, I had back to back programs at 2 different locations. The first being a school...and I must say...what a well behaved group of children. As I proceeded to tell the ghost stories...all eyes were on me. I love looking into the eyes of my audiences...with each word spoken, I can see how they are being touched. The innocence of the children make storytelling so special...but it is truly when I look into the eyes of the adults among them that I really receive an extra reward. The adults assume that I am there to entertain the kids...and without really knowing it...in those moments...they, themselves are transported back to childhood. They never go about their business, but instead, they are transfixed on the words that are spoken. It is usually the adults hands that being their appreciative clapping.
I moved on to the next location. I was a bit early, so I sat in my car and watched as families piled into the building. I chuckled to myself as I watched the costumed donned children...but what caught my eye even more was seeing their parents dressed as well. One in particular touched me greatly. There was a young boy...dressed as a ninja turtle...and holding his small little hand was his father...who looked to be about 6 feet tall....dressed to match his tiny son. My heart just melted. I hope that some day that young boy looks back and realizes the love that father has for him. I saw parents dressed as Minnie and Mickey, witches, cowpokes and fairies...and as they all entered the room where I was telling ghost stories...I could tell that they were just as transfixed on the stories as the children...in fact, perhaps even more. In those few moments....they are allowed to be there to listen to the stories with the pretense that they are there for their kids. I am often approached after a performance with comments about the stories told. How much they loved them...how they enjoyed them. Last night, after one of the stories, one mom commented on how shocked she was on the ending of the story told. She said she had wondered how I was going to end the story. Those types of comments make me feel good about what I do. I know that my words touch each and every person. Perhaps they will go home and retell the story. Those are their gifts to me...hopefully....my gift to them was pure and simple...the chance to be a child again...if only for a few moments.