This short story is from <Heartwarming Collection of Short Stories for Seniors: 2 Books in 1> by Bradley Windrow. It is perfect for seniors, even for dementia patients. Be sure to read until the end, as there’s a special gift waiting for you! hope you enjoy it!
Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. –Ralph Waldo Emerson
“Betty, try not to knock over any furniture this time!” Doris shouted from backstage, grinning like a cat who knew Betty was about to walk into chaos.
Betty, the self-appointed queen of community theater (at least in her mind), had finally landed a role—albeit a tiny one. Her job was simple: walk onstage, deliver the crucial line, “The Duke has arrived,” and gracefully exit. But Betty, ever the dramatist, had plans to make this line the moment of the century.
From the moment she got the part, she practiced like she was preparing for Broadway. “The Duke has arrived,” she whispered to herself, adding layers of unnecessary drama. She practiced in front of the mirror, in the grocery store aisle, and once, much to the confusion of her postman, on her front porch. Betty envisioned standing under the spotlight, the crowd erupting into applause. Easy peasy, right? Not so much.
On day one of rehearsal, Betty marched onstage with full diva confidence—only to exit stage right instead of left, causing the lead actor to bump into a curtain, sending a prop tree crashing down. “Stage left, Betty!” became the director’s new mantra. On day two, she nailed the direction but forgot to wait for her cue, yelling out her line mid-scene while the lead actor was still delivering a heartfelt speech. Cue the awkward silence. By day three, Betty’s oversized hat had become her greatest nemesis. She couldn’t make it through a single rehearsal without the thing flopping over her eyes like an unruly octopus, leaving her wandering the stage half-blind.
Then came dress rehearsal—a disaster in slow motion. Betty’s grand ball gown got caught on the set, causing her to stumble forward like a drunk giraffe. As if that wasn’t bad enough, her hat slid completely over her face, and she tripped over a fake plant, landing in a heap of silk and shame. The cast had to take a ten-minute break to recover from the laughter.
Finally, it was opening night. Betty’s nerves were in full swing, but her friends from the senior center had come to cheer her on, which only added pressure. Backstage was a war zone of flying costumes and missing props. Naturally, Betty misplaced her script five minutes before her scene, leaving her no choice but to wing it.
Her moment arrived. Betty strutted onto the stage, careful not to trip over her gown this time. She opened her mouth, but instead of delivering her line gracefully, it came out in a voice fit for a town crier: “THE DUKE HAS ARRIVED!” It was so loud that a nearby audience member jumped, spilling their drink. The crowd erupted into chuckles.
Betty, undeterred, turned to leave but, in classic Betty fashion, stepped on the hem of her dress. Her hat, once again, slipped off and went rolling across the stage like a bowling ball, crashing into a prop vase, which fell with a loud thud. The audience was howling with laughter now. Betty, determined to salvage her dignity, bent down, retrieved her hat, and—because why not?—gave a little curtsy before exiting stage left.
Backstage, her friends greeted her with wild applause. “Comedy genius!” they teased. Betty, red-faced but laughing, realized she hadn’t just survived her stage debut—she had accidentally nailed the funniest performance of the night. “The show must go on,” she muttered to herself, already planning how to top her act next year.
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