This past weekend I took some time to visit a show at a small theatre in northern Indiana with some friends. It’s something I’ve been looking forward to for a while now, and I wasn’t disappointed. The show was the stage adaption of Beauty and the Beast. We had front row seats, so I was practically on the stage. The performers were fantastic, the orchestra played flawlessly, and the night was a much needed break from planning for retirement at the end of the month.

Two things really made the night special for me. The first came in the form of a little girl who was sitting beside us with her mother. I could tell that Beauty and Beast is a favorite movie at this little girl’s house. She knew all of the Disney songs, knew what scene was coming up next, and reassured us multiple times that the Beast really isn’t that bad. I sometimes despair that our youngest generation will be addicted to screens, especially the handheld kind they carry in their pockets and purses. Culture, theatre, art…my secret fear is that we’ll lose so much heritage to YouTube and Instagram. But this little girl was enchanted by the live action on the stage. She gasped at each moment of suspense, laughed at every joke, and cheered as loud as anybody at each scene break. And noticing her, I also noticed that she was not alone. There were dozens of small children watching the show, caught up in this oldest art form.

The second thing that really made the evening special was the end of the show. This show was a musical, so all of the performers were talented singers. At the end of the show, they were all singing as the individual actors and actresses took center stage to the applause of the audience. The performers standing around the stage were singing and dancing, but still letting that individual at center stage be the center of attention. Once everyone had taken a bow, they took a bow towards the audience as a group and then ended the evening by bowing to each other.

I’ve always enjoyed theatre as an audience member, but I’m not blessed with any acting talent myself. Still, I’ve never really considered that bow at the end before—bowing to each other. The show was wonderful. Everyone knew their part completely, there were no mistakes. I can only imagine that such a performance requires hours upon hours of practice, both individually and as a group. I imagine that it takes some outside motivation to keep a person committed to such a huge endeavor, and I imagine that the source of that motivation is fellow performers, directors, stage managers, and musicians.

The bow to the audience was a sort of thank you for coming, and a cue to us for more applause, so we could show our appreciation for those hours of practice, for all of the tiny details coming together so flawlessly.

The bow to each other was also a thank you, a thank you to each other for the encouragement, the comradery, and the source of obligation that we all need sometimes to keep going on tasks that we know are worthwhile, but require a meticulous attention to detail and process.

I really enjoyed my night at the theatre. Probably not in the same way as the little girl sitting beside me, as it was all magic and wonder to her, while I recognized the enormous amount of time and effort behind the production. Pretty soon I’ll be making my curtain call at my job. Retirement is less than a month away, and while I’m looking forward to the accolades from friends and family, I know that the most important part for me will be that bow to my coworkers. Now, at the end of a long career, it’s very clear to me that any professional achievement and success I enjoy isn’t just the culmination of my own time and effort, but a collaboration with my team, and I’m grateful to have that perspective.