I was leading the library Rhymetime this morning and had one of those lovely transcendent moments that suddenly make all the pre-performance anxieties worth it. The session was full to the brim. If any more people had tried to get in to the Children’s library, we’d have had to think about elasticating the walls. If everyone had breathed in at the same time, the windows would have collapsed inwards.
I’d had to pretty much bellow at the top of my voice to be heard over the chattering, and I started by telling them I hadn’t had any coffee so my voice was likely to be a bit odd. They would therefore need to actually sing along in this session.
And they did.
About halfway through the very active session, with preschool kids running and dancing and clambering over the furniture and each other, I stopped singing, just for a couple of seconds. In that moment, I heard a perfectly in tune and on key rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star from the mums, dads and children that was a sheer thing of beauty.
It was enough to make me grin and ignore the small child trying to eat my shoelaces. It’s not every day you can say that.