Twice in the past week, I worked with dozens of kids at the West Side YMCA. These cuties were 7-13 years old, living in the age of snack time and cooties. Innocence jumped off their faces when I walked into the room holding my Miss New York sash and crown. Dropped jaws, Disney princess gasps, and frozen stares greeted me, followed by 20 questions. Are you a real princess? Is the crown real? How'd you become Miss New York? Do you have any pets? Can I tell you about my pets? Can I touch your earrings? Does wearing high heels hurt? You shouldn't wear high heels because you look pretty with out them.
Well, okay then. Whatever came to their minds, they asked and said. On the first day meeting them, I didn't have time to respond to the onset of questions before hitting the stage to rehearse for the benefit concert we'd be performing in together, but that didn't stop their curiosity or affection. Even when we were onstage, I'd get a random leg-cling here or a hand-hold there. The little girls hugged me at any opportunity and the boys waved whenever I looked their direction. My scheduled rehearsal ended at 6, but how could I say no when they invited me to stay for snack time?
Thirty minutes later, at least 20 little girls had tried on the crown, and my sash had escaped unscathed by dirty fingers! A minor miracle, if you ask me. I was exhausted from answering all of their enthusiastic inquiries and listening to all of their hurried stories about their families, hobbies, and achievements, yet I walked away incredibly refreshed. Those kids showered me with adoration without constraint, believed in my goodness towards them as to share with me all of their personal thoughts, and didn't think twice about taking my compliments or shelling out their own. If I told a child, "You look so pretty in that crown," she'd either say "Thank you!" or "I know!" None of this "You're just being nice" crud that adults think they need to say to come across humble. They told me they liked me dress, shoes, hair, smile, and earrings. One little girl told me I should wear my hair pulled over one shoulder and her peer said, "Oh, you totally should listen to her. She's really good at hair." Why don't adults compliment each other that much? If you like something, say it! If you think your friends are good at something, brag about them!
When I came back a week later for the actual performance (alongside numerous Broadway veterans...so neat), the children's welcome was too precious for words. All of the little munchkins ran to give me a hug as though I was their long lost best friend. One girl had even found a picture of me online and printed it so that I could sign it! As much as lazy me wanted to go sit in the green room with the rest of the performing adults, I stayed in the kids' holding room for the majority of the time to answer more questions, take pictures, and play an awesome new kid game called "Legen...wait for it...dary." Pretty sure none of them have seen How I Met Your Mother, but I'm really glad some teacher out there was hilarious enough to make a game out of the show's legen...wait for it...dary quote. See what I did there?
Children believe in virtue. They trust completely and expect you to do the same. They express themselves without fear of looking silly, never question if what they have to say is important, and find joy in something as small as being the one who gets to stand next to the princess onstage. They listen intently to the answers they asked for, have no hesitation to hug, and volunteer to help in any capacity. I think I'd take a Cheetoh hands pandemic in exchange for all adults to adopt that kind of childlike openness.
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Since the last time I blogged...
I walked in honor of my mom to raise money for Bladder Cancer research:
I went to a CITGO conference in Connecticut with Miss CT, Miss NJ, and Miss MA:
I met the entire Miss New York class of 2013:
Plus a few other things I'm sure I'm forgetting... :)
