The Wisdom of an 8-Year Old

In case you don't already know this about me, I am a musical theatre fanatic. I love it. I'm passionate about. It is one of the greatest joys of my life and has been for as long as I can remember.

Yesterday, for some reason, I felt compelled to listen to one of my favorite musicals, Miss Saigon--the raw, gritty, and oh so tragic story of a Vietnamese woman and a soldier who fall in love the night before the fall of Saigon in April 1975. With its beautiful, sweeping melodies and intense emotion, Miss Saigon won several Tony's (Broadway's equivalent of an Academy Award) and stole the hearts of people like me everywhere.

I popped in my tape (yes, tape--the show came out in 1989!) on my way to pick up the kids from school, and, since the very adult songs about marines and prostitution were over, I asked my kids (who I'm cunningly training to like musicals as well) if they wanted to listen to it while we ran some errands.

They agreed, and as we drove I told the story and asked how they were liking it. They thought it was OK--occasionally coming across as song they liked better than others. (Yeah!)

Then we came to one song (one of my favorites) that was particularly sad--a duet called "Please," where our heroine begs a former marine to help her find her lost love and the father of her child: "Please, don't you see we've washed over, as we crossed the wildest sea? Even God wants us together...can I end this journey, please?"

When the song was over, I said to my kids, "Isn't that sad? I love that song. I used to listen to it over and over."

Then my 8 year old daughter said the wisest thing:

"If it makes you so sad, why do you keep listening to it?"

Why, indeed.