Nothing but the Truth...Senior Play

The seniors just finished performing their fall play, "Nothing but the Truth",  by Philip J. Anderson. I've posted the introduction to the program as a favor to them...just a little something to help them remember it always...or at least as long as the internet keeps this record.

Welcome to a cruise aboard an impressive ship:  "The Deja Vu". 

The year is 1913. Passengers are wary of ocean crossings for the name "Titanic" still makes everyone nervous. 

David McNeely and his younger sister Mary are on their way to China, where Mary plans to serve as a missionary. 

 


The beautiful Miss Kate Miller immediately catches David’s eye and aspires to capture his friendship as well.   

 
Of course, a stunning beauty like Kate cannot help but attract the attention of other eligible bachelors aboard the ship. Pete Jones soon singles her out and attempts a conversation. 

The room stewardesses, Stella  and Phoebe, work hard at making everyone aboard  less nervous about the trip.

Not all passengers are easy to please. Take Mr. Walter Elias and his determined wife Lillian. They are involved in a plot more sinister than sabotage: Finding a husband for their young ward and passenger.   

Their ward, Paulette Cartier, is a young French girl returning to her native Paris after having spent four years at the university in America.  

The captain of this cruise ship, Werner Krause, calmly hosts his nervous passengers, reassuring  them with pleasant conversation and invitations to dine at his table in the exquisitely decorated dining room. 

Our final member of the cast is the manager of that dining room, an opportunistic and pragmatic young waiter. 

So board this ship with us for the next few minutes. Ride along as we sail into the perilous Atlantic. The senior students extend to you a special invitation.

We're still recovering from all the late night practices and from the performances, but if you missed it, I'm sorry. It was wonderful fun to watch.

 

Brave Adventures for World Conquerors

It was the last day of school for my pre-school grandchild, and he invited me along for a picnic on the grounds of the small, private school he attends. In order to accommodate an interesting mix of activities, there were several scattered stations, and children moved from one to another whenever they heard a whistle. . . or as they desired. (Nobody was being too legalistic here). There was frisbee throwing, tetherball, three-legged races, and a softball throw--none of which interested the youngest children. (or their camera-toting grandparents, oddly enough.)

Zaya and Mim rushed over to the "learn a song" station first, where Zaya bravely practiced a song for the talent show finale while Mim clung to her mother, intimidated by the cheerful energy of the bright, young mom who ran the music DVD.

Presently, face-painting tables beckoned. Zaya left the jumping, singing, choreographopolis and raced over to watch as several children got sports logos painted on their faces. Rushing back to where we were loitering, he excitedly asked his mom if he couldn't have U-O painted on his. She didn't understand what he meant, until she saw the OU symbol on several little faces. So, when she explained that the symbol was only a football slogan, he opted for a painting of the planet Saturn instead. There was only one hitch: no face-painters, just parents and grandparents dealing with children who wanted great works of art painted on their cheeks with a four-color selection of basic elementary school tempera paint and a very limited supply of brushes. Too late, we noticed this. Mim had already decided on a butterfly. So, Grandma did the honors, decorating their faces as requested. The butterfly was rather plain and the planet Saturn seemed to be on fire, or at least windswept into the universe background, but it doesn't take much to thrill young children, so we were all blissful together.

From there we explored..."the outer games" as Zaya put it, still thinking in spaceship mentality. We looked first at a couple of horses that someone had forgotten to remove from their trailer before he drove to the picnic parking lot; next we found a little playground behind the school, quite removed from all the older, frisbee-involved students. Then, past all the slides, swings, and teeter-totters, we found every child's dream: a large mountain of red dirt piles. After I scouted it and pronounced it safe, my little explorers went crazy, running up and down, sliding every now and then into a soft crevice carpeted with lime-new grass. They gloried in adventure as they conquered mountain tops and set up their kingdoms; they built launch pads to expedite further explorations, then blasted into the sky, riding rockets bound for nameless planets. It was a thrilling game, and it held their interest until lunch, when we all sat on the grass and ate.

While we were eating, we visited with the family of one of Zaya's classmates, a lovely little girl I'll call Esther, who ran and hugged him when she recognized him this morning. Her mother is from Russia and has been a good friend to my daughter this year, sharing time at "Moms in Touch", which is a prayer support group for the teachers and students at the school. Esther's dad is from Ghana, and teaches computer classes at the local university.

So we had three continents represented at our picnic...North America, Asia, Africa...and the strong, steady, south wind nearly blew us all out into the half-ripe wheat pasture together.

How interesting that so many worlds meet on the Oklahoma plain, where explorers once carved out kingdoms in the red dirt. Overhead is still the same blue universe and the same God looks down at his children.