Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella. I had the worst part in the entire play. I shared it with 6 other girls. 5 out of 6 would've agreed with me. The one, on the other hand, was very much indifferent to her role. She gave up a small part that would have made her stand out from the rest of us. She was given the non-verbal role of the "Old Woman" in the opening act. She turned it down because she didn't want to hit a kid with a cane. "It wasn't nice." she said. You're probably thinking that it's strange for her to turn something like that down. IT'S A WONDERFUL OPPORTUNITY TO SHOWCASE YOUR THEATRICAL ABILITY. Well, she was mentally challenged. No one knew what she had exactly, but we all knew that we had to tip-toe around her. My friends thought that it was cool that let her into the youth program, considering she was 20-something. She looked younger than us.
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| Royal Servant. And my family on splash mountain. |
Anyway, she was one of the 6 that was given the title of "Royal Servant". With any Scene that would take place in the castle, you would find the Royal Servants standing in the background. And that was it. We'd just stand there doing absolutely nothing. Our choreography consisted of holding our hands behind our backs.
The reason why this was a miserable experience for me, and the other girls, was having to watch the other kids have fun. The Director, The Choreographer and The Musical Instructor wouldn't let us dance.
In the opening act, the rest of us who didn't have speaking roles had to march in place while the lead would sing. And that was the ONLY time I could dance with everyone. No one would've seen me from the audience, I was pushed to the back of the stage.
During the royal ball, the entire kingdom was invited to dance with the royals. Everyone except for the royal servants. All of my friends got wear nice costume dresses and learn to ballroom dance, the choreographer told us to sit that one out. All we were going to do was stand anyway. So, we just watched them change into costume and rehearse their moves. And we couldn't change back into our costume from the opening like everyone else did for the final scene, we had to stay in our Thunder Casino uniforms.
Everyday after tech week I'd come home crying, begging my family NOT to see this play. I was so upset, and embarrassed with my part. I wasn't good enough to dance with everyone. My voice was pretty enough to be a lead. I was beyond sad. I already issues with my confidence, and this, this was not helping me.
On opening night, things had gotten worse. During the curtain call, the "Fairies" would drag a group at a time, and animate them to take a bow. So, the fairy dragged the royal servants, dead-last, to the front of the stage. I was second-to-last at the end of the chain. The servant at the end was the girl who turned down the opportunity of a lifetime. I notice backstage that she was picking her nose, using the hand that I had to hold. I started to have a panic attack, we had to be on stage within seconds and I had to hold her hand. I. Am. A. Germophobe. I couldn't make a quick decision, we were being pulled onstage. I wasn't able to grab her at all, and I was already visible to the audience, still being pulled into place. She came running behind the wings to catch up, but instead of grabbing my hand, she tugs my sleeve and stops running. Our white shirts were not button-ups, but Velcro. So, when she stopped with my sleeve in her firm grip, it caused my shirt to split open, revealing my chest. I was wearing a bra that the back of the full couldn't miss. I ripped my sleeve out of her hand and I released my grip from the other girl and struggled to attach my shirt, while the girls were bowing to the applauding audience. It was terrible I was just standing there in front of the audience, while everyone was taking a bow. The show went on without me.
As soon as the light went out, before the curtain could fall, I ran through everybody on the stage and went straight to the bathroom and locked myself in the stall. I cried so hard, I almost threw up. How could this play have gotten any worse than what it was already?
After I cried my lungs out I went to the director and through my tears, I told him what happened and I told him what happened to me on the stage. He could care less about the kids who weren't leads. He said that nothing changes. I needed to hold her hand, but he threatened to remove me from the play if didn't. I cried even harder. No one was on my side. Nobody helped. My theatre friends didn't know what to do, so they just left me to cry in the choir room.
When I managed to pull myself back together, everyone had cleared the choir room. I was left change alone, with my choke-crying echoes to keep me company. At the end of the hallway our parents had to sign us out. But it was always tough getting out, because all the parents would be blocking the door, hugging their kids and talking. Which made me feel even worse, because I knew that no one was waiting for me out there. As I tried to maneuver my way through the crowd, I heard some one call out my name.
"SHA-SHA!!"
Who the hell?
"SHA-SHA! HOLD UP!"
I didn't know anybody else who went by that name. I moved to the side, and waited.
And I was so surprised to see that it was a friend. A friend that I had made from my last play, Grease. It was my dearest Pickle.
FLASHBACK
While the Grease ensemble was changing in the hallway, because we weren't allowed to change in the green room with the Leads. I said to the half-naked people in the dark hallway that "I need a Pickle." And girl that was older than me said, "I'll be your Pickle." I fell in love with her personality instantly. It's hard to find someone that is on the same level as dumb as myself. I don't know what we would really talk about, but she was a big sister to me. I'd hug her every time that I'd see her, I was very close to her. She was very loving and had positive view on everything. She also had a sick obsession with Disney. She was my Pickle, and I her Sha-Sha.
Seeing her backstage at this nightmare show was a big surprise. She made me feel better instantly, just by saying "Hi" to me and remembering my name. She told me that I was great, and I said thanks, knowing she was just saying that to be nice. Unless I did a damn-good job at standing or, I was great when it came to flashing the audience my chest.
"I wanted to give you these! You were awesome on stage and I was so happy to see that you were still doing theatre!"
She brought me flowers.
The person, whom I had least expected to show up and bring me anything, brings me flowers on opening night.
I am not in anyway related to her. Just a little theatre kid who would call her "Pickle" and hug her to the ground.
Flowers are given to be people who matter.
This was a big deal for me. She got these for me. FOR ME. I'm not her kid! I'm not her sister! I am not anything to her! And yet, she went out of her way to buy me flowers.
. . .
I just can't explain what that meant to me. I already felt like the world hated me. No one could care for someone they barely know.
What I am trying to say is that small act of kindness WILL NEVER LEAVE ME. I will always remember that. It's something that may have seemed like a small gesture to her, but for me it was pretty much life changing. It was the beginning of other moments that would help me restore my faith in humanity. I can matter to others. This was one of the many things that made want to change myself for the better. I want to be able to bring happiness to someone. The way Pickle did for me. I could go on forever about how much this meant to me. But then I would be rambling, and I wouldn't be making any sense. . . This paragraph is the perfect example of just that.
In Conclusion. . .
Thank you, Rachel Barngraff. Your small act of kindness brought so much joy to me in that moment. It has inspired me to be a more thoughtful and giving person. One day, I'll be the Pickle to lift a sad Sha-Sha's heart. You made a lasting impression on mine. I wish you the best, my dearest Pickle.
Your Sha-Sha
"Kind words can be short and easy to speak but their echoes are truly endless."
~ Mother Teresa
