She Forgot Her Lines

My daughter had lines in the school assembly. Scene 5. She forgot them. She stood up there in her Elsa dress, in front of the whole gym, and forgot her lines — and she was still shining. That's the part I can't stop thinking about. She didn't shrink. She didn't cry. She just stood there, being brave in a costume, in front of everybody. And more to the point: I showed up. I was there in the gym, in a chair, watching. She might not remember the lines she forgot. She'll remember that her mom was in the room. Showing up is the whole job some days. Not perfect. Present.