“A heart is not judged by how much you love;
but by how much you are loved by others,”
The Wizard of Oz
Grandma P. treated her two daughters and two eldest grand-daughters to an afternoon of theatre yesterday: we went to see,”The Wizard of Oz.” We’d been talking about all things Wizard for a few weeks, and I had performed a highly condensed version of the musical for my daughters in preparation of the big event. (This was not a hardship you understand, as I have a theatrical background and am always appreciative of a captive audience.)
Prior to the matinee, Pip knew the plot of ‘The Wizard,’ and she knew most of the songs, but she had no idea that she’d fall in love with Dorothy. There we sat, a mere four rows from the stage; Pip on her booster-cushion with her stuffed pig ‘Wilbur’ on her lap, and me, sitting proudly at her side. The orchestra began playing, the lights dimmed, and Pip said, “When are they going to pop up Mama?”
When Dorothy did finally pop up, Pip was enchanted. Her favourite song is ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and it begins a bit differently in the theatre version than it does in my one-woman-show. “What’s this song she’s singing Mama?” Pip looked puzzled.
“It’s going to turn into ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ in a second, Pip.” I said. When Dorothy launched into, ‘Somewhere,’ Pip threw me a smile of excitement, then she looked back at the stage. Her eyes remained glued to Dorothy from that point on, and whenever the actress was offstage, Pip would ask,”Where’s Dorothy, Mama?”
Throughout the show, I was torn between looking at my daughter and looking at the stage, but Dorothy captured my heart as well. She was beautiful. Her voice was gorgeous, her acting was seamless, and she cried real tears when she had to say good-bye to her friends in Oz.
I got a bit choked-up watching Dorothy. Not just because she was having such an impact on my little girl, but also because I know her dad. We went to high-school together and I could see his smile in hers. I imagined how he must feel watching his little girl convincingly transport an entire audience to a land of munchkins and wizards and magic.
The show was long for my little three-year-old, despite captivating performances from all of the leads. By the two-hour mark, she started asking, “Is it over now Mama?” every time the lights dimmed for a scene-change. She was a trooper though, and lasted until the final curtain. I could tell she was on the edge when we walked out into the muggy summer heat and she refused to get into the hot car. Once she understood that the alternative was to stay in the hot parking lot, she whimpered her way into her carseat and I buckled her up.
A few minutes into the drive home I looked in my rear-view mirror to check on Pip. She looked sad. Her face was glistening with sweat and her mouth was turned-down. “Are you okay, Pip?” I asked.
“I miss Dorothy,” was the response. She looked like she might cry.
“I know, Honey, Dorothy was a real sweetheart.”
“I think she misses me too, Mama.”