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Guess What?

Okay, so we were going into Walmart, she was skipping, mouth running a mile a minute, me with a thousand and one things on my mind hearing nothing. Focused and determined to cross this thing off my list, my eyes heard her and yet my ears did not. My daughter needs glasses. She was so excited that she could hardly sleep the night before. Something about being a daughter who will become a woman adds excitement and joy to any home. So, as the entry doors to Walmart open and just before the next set of doors open to the smiling face of a greeter – we were trapped! She came up to us, blond perky, loud and way over the top friendly and as cute as a young woman could be. First thing she asked me was is this my daughter. I hesitated to answer, my mind racing, what does she want, did Isabella do something, what now – my mind thinking in phrases. She was a talent scout for Barbizon, she liked my daughters energy and wanted to know if she had ever done any kind of acting, modeling or dancing. She gave me her card and welcomed me to bring my daughter to an informational meeting to see if this is something she might want to do. I asked my daughter if this si something she would like to do. She said yes. The meeting was the next day, Sunday. She told me she always wanted to be an actress and a singer. I said ok.

When we arrived at the Hilton in Stockton that Sunday, she was excited. My mind was racing quite frankly thinking about how much is this going to cost me and hoping that it is not going to take too long. The lobby was filled with little girls in varying shapes, sizes and colors and their parent(s). The sounds of high pitched girls squealing and whispering filled the space. After sitting through an hour and a half of presentation, practicing walking down the catwalk and learning a commercial it was our time. The agent called her name, shook her hand and mine and then we followed her to her desk. One of the things that immediately impressed me was that the agent was not talking to me, she was looking and speaking to my daughter. I would interject a fact that my daughter had missed; however for the most part the questions were asked and answered directed towards my child. I found myself clasping my hands together real tight willing myself to keep my opinions to myself. I wanted my daughter to have her moment.

There was a point when I looked at her profile that I could tell she was fighting back tears. The agent was telling her that everyone cannot do this kind of work and saying that she may not get picked. Only 15 girls get a chance to move on and she may not be that one. She told her to not get discouraged and recommended additional training in theater work if she wants to act. She listened, she looked intently, she looked into her eyes, she was 10 with confidence. I knew that if I said anything at this time, the tears would come pouring at. I refrained from speaking, I looked away and let her be. She did good.

As we drove home she chattered on and on about what she just went through. She said it was fun, she said she knew they were going to call and then she said her underarms were sweaty. I told her she was nervous. And then as soon as she started she stopped. I looked in the rear view mirror, my daughter was asleep. I smiled. I looked at her and I remembered when she was a baby. Now she was 10 and able to tell me what she liked and didn’t like. God is indeed good.

They called today. My daughter was one of the 15, she was picked. Here we go!!!