I Thought of You, Mrs. Davis . . .

Last night, all three girls were in elementary school Christmas programs (no, not "winter" programs or "holiday" programs--this community seems content with its traditions). Suzanna and Abigail go to the same public school, and their programs were one after the other. Hillary goes to kindergarten at a different (parochial) school, and her program was at the same time! So Susan saw the older girls' programs during the day and attended Hillary's at night (Grandpa Gustafson accompanied her at each). I missed Hillary's altogether but saw the other girls' programs in the evening.

It was PACKED! Suzanna and I stood at the back of the gym to watch Abigail's. When that throng trooped out, there was room for me to sit just seconds before the next crowd refilled the gym. So Abigail and I sat to watch Suzanna's program. There was a raised platform at the end of the gym with risers set on the floor in front of it. Metal folding chairs were set up in rows from that point to the back of the gym. Every kid's parents, siblings, grandparents, and neighbors must have been there to fill that place so full!

There were plots connecting the Christmas songs, so kids had speaking lines here and there. There was choreography to the songs, so kids moved and danced and gestured along with the words. And there were "messages" in each "play," so the Christmas spirit came through. In Abigail's, the kids were dressed like cats and dogs. One cat and one dog become friends, and their fellow cats and dogs can't understand it; cats hating dogs and vice versa is just the way things are supposed to be. The message was about overlooking differences. In Suzanna's, Santa Claus thinks he needs to act like The Fonz (think Happy Days) to be cool enough for "kids these days" to like (during what "these days" was this play written, anyway?!). The kids convince him that they like him the traditional way: without the leather jacket.

I couldn't help but recall elementary school programs in Tioga, ND with Mrs. Davis, our beloved music teacher who could organize and execute a well run music program involving over a hundred kids with costumes and props and sets and dancing and moving from one location to the next, all of which she orchestrated while seated at the piano and accompanying every song herself (albeit sometimes with one hand while using the other hand to give cues or point ominously at naughty children).

The girls' program was accompanied by pre-recorded music (presumably from the company that supplied the script). The music teacher pointed a remote control to start each number and sat at her chair, acting out the gestures and movements for the kids to duplicate. There was enthusiasm in the kids and true musicianship in their voices, so I have no doubt she's a good teacher. And the programs certainly drew the big crowds that I remember attending elementary school music programs. But seeing how things have changed over the years (or, at least, compared to my memories of my childhood) made me fondly recall Mary Ellen Davis and appreciate all the work it must have been for her to stage the kinds of grand music programs for which she was always known in our district.