A Gracious Audience
At the Last Best Place for Animals
Pre-pandemic, 2018 and 2019, I had the opportunity to go into my neighborhood elementary school and read to 2nd graders every Tuesday. That was the best day of my week. I spent a lot of time deciding which titles to bring from my own library of picture books. Then I would practice reading them to my cat, Rajah, which helped me get a feel for pacing, pronunciation, and any theatrics I wanted to include.
These children made me feel like a rockstar, squealing when they saw me waiting in the classroom doorway. In fact, if I arrived early and they were finishing up a lesson, I couldn’t let them see me – chaos would break out. Ego-elevating for me but not so much fun for the teacher who had to get them to quiet down and finish their assignments.
Photo Credit: J. Howeth
When it was time for my entrance, a couple of the kids would mob me and escort me to the reading corner like I was performing in a new venue. We would all plunk down on the floor together as I began pulling books out of my bag. I always brought at least four, learning the hard way that voting is a tricky maneuver with 7-year-olds. There’s a lot of pouting and upset when one of them gets out-voted – there were even attempts to overthrow the consensus – so I came prepared with a master plan and tried hard to stick to it. I was occasionally overruled, but most of the time, they were a gracious audience, adopting thoughtful, curious expressions, listening politely and adoringly, and laughing in all the right places. It was more fun than I can possibly describe.
Fast forward five years. As we all know, the pandemic changed many things - so many of the “normalcies” of our lives. The reading program that let me visit the classrooms wasn’t revitalized when the lockdown ended. Consequently, I haven’t been able to resume my rockstar career — with kids, that is.
Yep! You guessed it! I now have a new, gracious audience. I’m reading to the animals at the sanctuary these days. At first, the goats and horses and Thistle, the mini mule, weren’t too sure of me and my lawn chair. (I KNOW I caught them looking at one another with raised eyebrows.) Normally, I arrive with apples. Instead, this was starting to look like some sort of production minus the gastronomic satisfaction.
When I plunk my chair in the shade of a heavily boughed tree, the crew knows something different is about to happen. I pull my books from my bag (that the goats find worth investigating just in case an apple is in there after all), gather my audience together, and the show begins. I’ve already practiced my pacing, pronunciation, and theatrics at home with the cat, so I’m prepared!
They are a gracious audience, but unlike those 7-year-olds, these fans respond with equanimity to whatever titles I choose to read. Voting doesn’t seem to be in their vocabulary. They adopt thoughtful, curious expressions, listen politely and adoringly, show interest in the pictures which I make sure everyone gets to see – up close, if necessary, and laugh in all the right places. Their favorite stories are about farm animals, and they are especially fond of rhyming texts, which inspire the occasional bit of head bobbing and hoof stomping.
All is well with the world, and once again, Tuesday is my favorite day of the week.
