Leah Holser

The moment I realized it was all over was when I learned to appreciate what I had.

My heart was thumping hard in my chest. The final scene of the final show. 

“I’m never going to be in another play like this again.” 

“Will I even be friends with these people after all of this?” 

“What if I never get where I want to be?” 

All of these were thoughts that were rushing through my head as I waited in the wings before I went on stage for the last time of this production of The Crucible. 

Then the questions went quiet.

I heard my queue, and it was time for me to go. I skipped onto the stage, laughing and giggling, immersed in character. I made the most of it. 

Suddenly, the only thought in my head was, “Screw it, it’s the final show.” 

I couldn’t let the thoughts of worry and anxiety that corrupt my brain take away from the joy I was truly feeling in that moment. My whole life I had wanted to be on stage acting, and I finally was able to do it. Nothing else around me mattered more than the present. 

The friendships I made and the lessons I learned are something I honestly don’t think I would’ve been able to achieve anywhere else. 

Commitment. 

When I auditioned, I was already committing, even before I got the part. I was committing to trying my best, even if I didn’t make it. It was my responsibility to put every ounce of effort into this performance.

Gratitude. 

The amount of love I felt for everyone at the end of the show was overwhelming. Without so many people, our leads, our ensemble, our crew, hair and makeup team, our student director and director, the show wouldn’t have been possible. Every single person involved was so important to the making of this show. I never realized how much work theater was until I was in it. 

Courage. 

Not just the courage to put myself onto a stage and perform in front of hundreds but the courage to meet new people. People I would have never thought I would have befriended. The people in theater were the sweetest souls I have encountered in a very long time. 

I’m snapped back to reality, on the stage, going over what I’ve learned and who I’ve met. The sound of the applause from the audience is muffled as I look over to one of my friends, tears welling up in my eyes. 

With the seniors who were leaving, the admiration I had in my heart had nowhere to go but drops of tears rolling down my cheeks. Someday that would be me, and it saddens me to think so. 

Standing on the stage, with the people I adored, doing the thing I loved. 

The moment didn’t last forever, but the memory always will.