Gladly I walked out of the room. I felt good about this one- I just knew I was going to get the part. Auditions were always nerve-wracking for me, even though I loved them, but not this one. My only concern would be that pirouette I did- it was far from perfect. And besides, I kept turning inside instead of outside. But, oh, inside pirouettes were so much easier to pull off, especially doubles. Miss Jenny was probably not too pleased to see those, especially after all the time she's spent working on those with me. I knew Mrs. Faulkner would be in support of me, though, and that's what counted- it was more of a dramatic role than a dancing one, anyway. Not like that part Lora tried out for- I sure hoped she got it. She danced so beautifully.
~
"No, she could not spin properly."
"She could learn to."
"Do you know how many hours I've spent trying to get her to do those right? She is not getting it."
The two women sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Mrs. Faulkner spoke up again.
"I know Meridian, Jennifer! She doesn't always seem like she's getting it, but she does. She grasps what you are saying. It's simply a matter of practice. Besides, she can memorize and act like she never knew otherwise."
"Meridian is a very sweet girl, and I love teaching her, but if she can't spin, she'll take the drama out of the moment."
"So what? It's one pirouette, and even if she never got it, her face would tell all and would by far make up for the 'drama' of the moment."
"Fine. I'll give her the part. But you had better be right about this."
~
Arriving at the auditorium for the first rehearsal was, to me, like arriving in heaven. Moreover, I was thrilled when I saw those whom I was to be acting with: world-class actors and musicians, directed by my favorite- Mrs. Faulkner. Best of all, my dear friends all had major roles in the play. Lora got the dancing part, Miranda, Grace, and Kameryn got other dancing roles. Logan was the main character. Jonathan and John had parts as well.
Rehearsals were great. Somehow I managed to achieve the perfect inside double pirouette, and Miss Jenny thoroughly approved. Something, though, about the play was morbid, depressing, uncomfortable. I could not figure out what- was it just my character? The story line? At any rate, it seemed to be a good play with some kind of sad theme that I apparently was only acting very well, not feeling too much at all.
~
Actors are always taught to get into the character they are portraying: to really be them. This helps you to really look angry when your character is, etc.- in other words, to be real, not just an actor. Somehow it seemed that I was doing a good job at looking like I was getting into my character- whoever she was- but I was pathetic at truly, deep down inside of me, feeling hurt when my character was hurt, or angry when my character was.
The performances came up, and I was still like this, but no one knew. It was not until this point that what the play was about began to reveal itself to me as the dreamer: it was something about war. Even so, it was all quite vague. Vague, that is, until the final performance. My facial expressions were perfected, my pirouette was ideal, even my tone of voice sounded so genuine. Then, suddenly, something clicked deep down. At that moment I began to do what every actor should aspire to do: to become the character. Somehow, though, I got a lot further than taking the emotions seriously- I began to get so immersed in the story, I was the character in every respect- mentally, in appearance, and emotionally.
~
The play was over. Bows had just finished. The curtain closed. Then something strange, out-of-the-ordinary, wild occurred. First, it must be understood that my final costume was actually a peach dress, designed for dancing in, like a worship dance dress. In a moment, this turned into a lovely colonial dress of the same color, trimmed with authentic lace. A bonnet was upon my head. I was standing no longer backstage, but by a tall French window, in a room so finely furnished I cannot begin to describe its richness. I was gazing out at a field, where many men stood. Among them, I immediately recognized so many faces: those of John, Jonathan, Logan, Matthew, Andrew, and so many other friends. These were hardly to be considered men: why, the average age of those who stood there could not have been older than twenty-one. Yet, the way they held themselves, the soberness of their faces, the depth of their eyes- these defied their age. There was something so serious in their mannerisms, fear stricken across the faces of some. Why I knew not, but it seemed that my face, too, was pale as a ghost, my eyes wide with shock, my lips quivering with fear. Looking across the field, I saw Lora and Miranda each in their in own fine homes, similarly dressed and just as horrified. Puzzled, I, the onlooker at the dream, began to try to figure what could have caused such a panic among such a large number of people.
It was then that I heard Logan speaking. He apparently was the commander of these men. His words were the kind of words that could inspire even the most fearful of men. Sitting tall upon his stallion, he began his speech:
"Men, we shall not fear this day. We shall give our all: we shall fight, and die if need be. The Lord forbid that we should do otherwise. It is our duty, our right, our honor to bleed here today and to defend all that we have so long called our own..."
His words faded out as he made his way down the line of brave young men, but what I heard echoed through my mind. Bravery seemed to take hold in the hearts and minds of these warriors, in mine as well. Jonathan began to quote Scripture to anyone who would hear him, encouraging many.
"The Lord is my strength and my shield."
"I will not be afraid."
"Do not fear evil men."
John just as quickly began to share the Gospel with those near him, beginninng with "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."
~
BarUM, brum, brum. BarUM, brum, brum. Slowly the sound of the drums grew nearer and nearer, till its source was on the plain: enemy soldiers had arrived on the spot. Now I understood. It was war. One soldier raised his gun, fired it into the air, and the battle began. Fiercely did the enemy fight, but more heroically did their outnumbered opponents. Canons fired, bayonets were attached, and gun shots abounded. Each moment fresh blood was shed on that field. Sadly I watched as these heroes- my young friends- layed down their lives. One young man's arm was blown to pieces, another boy stabbed in the heart. Bodies lay everywhere, blood and filth on the faces and simple citizen's clothing of those alive and dead. The noise was deafening, the gruesomeness of the scene sickening, but yet they kept on fighting. For their families. For freedom. For Christ.
Watching, watching, watching I stood there, waiting in agony for it to be over. Each time a young man was stabbed, I felt as though I had been stabbed a hundred times. Oh, the horrors of war- yet what a necessary evil it is! Time passed, no man was left untouched by the stain and stench of blood. Still, they kept going! Sickened, I saw Logan thrown off his horse, and stabbed by an enemy bayonet, then run over by the many now unowned horses. Grief-stricken I witnessed the impact of a sword thrust into the side of John. Compassionately I watched as Jonathan screamed, and ran to his comrade's side, placing him on his own shoulders. Then, running for help at a nearby house, he was overcome with fatigue. As he fell to the ground, an explosion occurred right beside him. He, along with John and Logan, was gone. This was a great shock to me: Logan, Jonathan, and John all gone in a single hour? How could this be? Life without them?
~
If Lora and Miranda had come out of their homes they would have been quickly demolished. Yet somehow they appeared in my home at this moment, bringing Kameryn with them. Stunned, we all looked out the window, and simply began to cry, to hold each other. Bullets continued to fly out, blood kept being shed, now we prayed only that it would soon be over. And it was. Within short hours, our heroes had won, though it cost them their lives. Few remained, but alas! It was done. Our lives would never be the same, but oh, we would cling to God and to each other.
~
"Meridian? Hello? Are you okay?"
It was Grace speaking.
"Yes, I'm fine. You were really great!"
"Thanks! I just came over to compliment you on the pirouette: it was terrific!"
"Thanks Grace! You're the best!"
Lora, Miranda, and Kameryn walked over. I smiled, and we chatted for a while, but I felt as though I knew something they didn't. Finally, before the cast party ended, after the girls had moved on, the young men began to make their way over. I stared, then my eyes filled with tears. Quickly I began to tell them how important their friendships were to me, how much I admired them, etc. When they asked why I was seemed so emotional, I told them about what I had seen in my vision. Quietly they all smiled in a sober manner. Jonathan began to speak in a humbled, tender way, and I jolted up. It had all been a dream.
Do we ever stop to reflect on the value of the people in our lives? We are all human beings, one just as much as the other. Oftentimes we take our friendships and acquaintances for granted, forgetting to look at each one individually as a gift from God. On other occasions, we love our friends to death, but don't pause to treasure each moment. Time is not on our side here on this earth. Of course, in eternity, it will be on the side of those who put their faith in Christ, but that doesn't excuse us from taking advantage of every moment given us.
Each day is a gift. Every true friend is priceless. "A friend sticks closer than a brother." May we be those kind of friends, and may we make every moment a moment worth remembering
Meridian
P.S. If you are wondering, this was a real dream I had in the Spring of 2010. It was such a shocking dream to me that I didn't bother to think about breakfast, and wrote it all out the moment I got out of bed. The above is completely unedited from the original, aside from the name changes of the directors.
No comments:
Post a Comment