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Thea stands on the front porch in late-afternoon sun, waving a colorful flyer; Mommy kneels beside her smiling, and Grandma claps from the doorway of the family home.
Thea skipped home, waving a flyer. "School play!" she squealed, then gulped. "Crowds are big," she whispered. Mommy knelt. "We’ll help you." Nana winked; Grandma clapped. Baby Kinsley giggled, "Ba!"
In the cozy living-room at night, lamplight glows while Daddy cups hands to stage-whisper toward Thea, who imitates him as Mommy performs slow “smell-flowers, blow-candles” breathing beside them, shoulders lowered.
That night Thea frowned. "My tummy has butterflies." Daddy grinned. "Try stage whispers." He cupped hands. "Psst, hello!" Mommy breathed slowly. "Smell flowers, blow candles." Thea copied, shoulders dropping. "Better," she said.
Afternoon living-room: cushions stacked as a tiny stage under ceiling light; Thea recites atop them, Daddy crouches like a director holding an imaginary clipboard, and baby Kinsley sits on the rug clapping.
Daddy stacked cushions as a stage. "Places!" Grandma called, chuckling. Thea spoke her lines; Kinsley clapped wildly. "You sound brave," Nana cheered. Thea tried funny voices. "I like storytelling," she whispered, surprised.
In Grandma’s attic at midday, sunlight slants through a skylight as Thea twirls a shimmering gold scarf; Grandma kneels by an open trunk of bright fabrics, and Nana extends a floppy hat toward her.
Grandma opened a trunk. "Scarves, capes, sparkle!" Nana offered a floppy hat. Thea twirled a gold scarf like sunshine. "Watch my dance," she laughed. Mommy clapped rhythm. "Movement feels happy," Thea said.
Morning kitchen with bright window light: Daddy taps upside-down pots using wooden spoons, Thea matches the rhythm mid-step on the tiled floor, and Kinsley bobs nearby like a tiny drummer.
Daddy tapped pots with wooden spoons. "Boom, tap, tap," he chanted. Thea matched his beat with tiny steps. Kinsley bobbed like a drumstick. "You’ve got rhythm," Mommy said. Thea grinned. "Drumming feet!"
Living-room afternoon, warm sunlight: Thea stands tall hand on heart, singing toward the ceiling; Mommy hums nearby, and Nana gently lifts Thea’s chin to straighten posture, sheet-music page resting on the coffee table.
Mommy hummed a gentle tune. "La, la," Thea tried, hand on heart. "Use tall posture," Nana guided. Higher notes floated; Grandma beamed. "I can sing!" Thea giggled. Kinsley echoed, "La!"
Dining table under an overhead lamp, early evening; glitter jars sparkle while Thea trims yellow cardboard, Mommy steadies a glue bottle on their star prop, and Grandma sprinkles extra glitter that catches the light.
Grandma spread paper, glitter, and glue. "We’ll make a star prop," Mommy said. Thea cut carefully, tongue poking. Nana tied string for holding. "Sparkly and strong," Daddy admired. Kinsley patted, sprinkling glitter snow.
Brightly lit school gym at midday; rows of empty chairs stretch back as Thea, clutching her glittery star, grips Mommy’s hand in the center aisle while Daddy leans close whispering reassurance, basketball hoops hanging above.
On rehearsal day, the school gym echoed. Thea squeezed Mommy’s hand. "So many chairs." "We’re here," Daddy whispered. Grandma waved the gold scarf. "Breathe," Nana reminded. Thea nodded, clutching her star.
Narrow backstage corridor with curtain shadows and a single work-light; Thea practices butterfly breaths, Nana facing her with synchronized inhale-exhale, while Grandma forms a wide 'smiling star' gesture beside costume racks.
Backstage, Thea’s knees wiggled. "Butterfly breaths," Nana said. Together they inhaled, exhaled, steady. "Imagine friendly faces," Grandma added. Thea pictured family as smiling stars. "I am brave," she whispered.
School stage under a warm spotlight, evening; Thea steps forward alone, glittering star prop raised and gold scarf swirling as her feet begin a soft drum tap, audience silhouettes fading into darkness beyond footlights.
The curtain rose; lights warmed Thea’s cheeks. She stepped forward, star shining. "Hello," she sang softly, clear and bright. Her scarf swirled; feet drummed the beat. The audience hushed. Thea’s smile bloomed.
Same stage moments later with house lights brighter: Thea finishes a tiny stomp, other children behind her imitate the move while giggling, and Daddy watches from the front row giving a subtle thumbs-up.
Thea added a tiny drum stomp. Other children copied, giggling. "Keep the rhythm," Daddy whispered from the seats. Grandma dabbed a happy tear. Nana squeezed Mommy’s hand. Warm applause washed over Thea.
School hallway outside the auditorium under fluorescent lights; Thea grins within a stacked hug as Mommy lifts her slightly, and Grandma counts talents on raised fingers beside scattered bouquets and props.
Afterward, hugs stacked like pillows. "Stage isn’t scary now," Thea said. "You discovered talents," Mommy smiled. "Singing, dancing, drumming, crafting," Grandma counted. Nana nodded. "And courage." Kinsley squealed, "Bravo!"
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