When a Wren is a polar bear

Being a grandmother has it’s moments. One of those came recently when my granddaughter Wren was scheduled to be in her first dance recital. Wren is officially three and 11/12 years old.
The holiday themed recital was scheduled for Sunday, Dec. 19. Since my family lives 250 miles away, we decided to bundle our Christmas gathering on the same weekend. My husband and I packed up the presents and dogs, Lisha and Rocky, for the five hour trip.
The presents went in the trunk, and the dogs got to lounge in the back seat. Lisha’s an old hand at travel but this was Rocky’s first road trip with us. He settled in after about 100 miles, using Paul’s coat as a pillow.
We arrived at Wren’s house just after supper on Friday night, with enough time to see Wren before she was bedded down for the night with visions of fairies dancing in her head. Saturday was her dress rehearsal and she needed a good night’s sleep.
On Saturday, her mother Sarah and I dressed Wren in her polar bear costume, white pants, white shirt, red scarf and white ears on her head band. A stop for last minute Christmas shopping included eating lunch at the food court of the mall. Several napkins as bibs were needed to keep a three and 11/12 year old from dripping pizza sauce on her white shirt.
Her shirt intact, we arrived at the auditorium for rehearsal. We sat waiting while several other dance classes rehearsed their numbers donned in reindeer costumes, pajamas and red dresses lined in white fur. I won’t go so far as to say it was pandemonium, but I’m glad I was not in charge of the scene.
“Unless something goes very wrong, we will only run through each number once,” said the woman in charge.
One participant in the Mommy and Me group was definitely not happy about being on a large stage in front of an equally large audience of children and parents. Her meltdown left me somewhere between feeling bad for her and laughter. Several children abandoned their designated stars on the floor to wave and run to their mothers. The children craned their heads to focus on their coaches who stood in the wings demonstrating the next move.
Then it was time for Wren’s group to rehearse. The teacher lined up the little ones and led them onto the stage. What a delightful sight to see 10 three-year-olds dressed as polar bears march onto the stage single file and land on their stars. Everything was going well until the unthinkable happened.
Wren found a blue feather on the stage floor.
Wren loves feathers, crystals, and anything that reminds her of nature. We think she may be a budding naturalist by the way she likes to kiss dead crickets, and carry frogs around in her hands. Seeing a feather on the floor was too good to resist.
Wren picked up the feather and her attention was glued. She stared at the feather, reveling in it’s delicate details. She stroked the feather and waved it in the air. She danced with the feather. She blessed the other students with the feather.
She did not do her polar bear dance.
I’ll never know if it was the feather or something else in the air, but all of the polar bears seemed to lose all sense of their dance moves. When the run through was finished, the teacher announced, “This is an example of when everything goes wrong. Let’s try it again.”
With feather still in hand, Wren and her troupe got another shot at their number, showing improvement. Afterwards, we paised Wren for a beautiful dance and took her and her feather back to the car. I sat next to Wren and she turned to me and offered me the feather.
“I got this just for you,” she said.
So, the whole thing is now grandma’s fault.
Saturday night was our family Christmas gathering. I had made quilts as gifts for the members of my family, including a special one for Wren. Wren opened her package and pulled out her quilt with an excited exclamation, “Home Sweet Home!” And so, each person’s quilt was named as a Home Sweet Home quilt. I have no idea how Wren came up with the name, but it set the tone for the rest of the evening.
And, I guess Wren had a good night’s sleep with her Home Sweet Home quilt because her recital on Sunday went well. Luckily, the stage floor was swept and no feathers were found. Wren did her dance as well as any three and 11/12 year old polar bear could. We presented her with roses afterwards, like a true prima-ballerina.
Though her mother had sworn this was her last dance class, the next day she said, “Her next recital will be in May.”
By then she’ll be four and one-third years old, and hopefully there won’t be any feathers on the stage.