All hands accounted for

Sue and I have both volunteered to play bit parts in a staged reading of a play written by Som Subedi, about the experience of coming to the USA as a refugee. We spent three hours this afternoon in our first rehearsal. Som’s daughter Santé, age 3, was with us the whole time, and we marveled at how patient she was, how undemanding. She amused herself with a mermaid doll, a box of pencils, and a bag of chips in a barren room with nothing for her to do or to play with. She wasn’t bothered by eight grownups sitting in a circle looking at sheets of paper and ignoring her. At the end, we all put our hands into a circle together, and she joined in. Sue and I both felt that our grandchildren would have been much more needful of attention and diversion.