‘I like your woissus’ – Lilith Konig, aged 6

Those were the words on one of the feedback slips I received after the first performance of THIS EVIL THING at the Sherman Studio on Monday.  A great show, a packed house, with members of the Welsh Assembly in (!), my director Ros Hutt in too (she is half-Welsh and was determined to be there and bring many a local friend), and Aled Eirug, expert on Welsh conscientious objectors in WW1, joining me for the Q and A – but there was also this small child.

I noticed her during the performance during one of the moments    I talk to the audience.  A very lively political discussion was taking place during the Q and A, when I noticed the small child was still there.  I stopped the debate and asked if I could put a question myself – to  Lilith, her name was. ‘How old are you, Lilith?’  ‘Six.’  ‘Did you enjoy the play?’  ‘Er, yes.’  ‘Do you have a question you’d like to ask me about it?’  ‘Er, yes.’ ‘What is it?’

We all waited, Welsh Assembly members and all, to see what Lilith’s question would be and how it might progress the debate…

The question was, ‘Did you want to do this play, or were you forced to do it?’

Best (and arguably the most profound) question I have ever been asked by anyone.

She was in the bar afterwards too! With her mother.  They had come, not really knowing what to expect, as part of the Sherman’s excellent Sherman5 scheme, enabling people who can’t necessarily afford tickets, to sample a play.

Feedback slips had been handed out to the audience too – a useful tool in helping to get future funding (remember, this great adventure is completely unfunded).  Lilith ran up to me, handed me hers, and ran off again.  ‘I like your woissus, Lilith Konig, aged 6,’   it said.  She came back to me.  ‘Thank you, Lilith,’ I said, ‘But what does woissus mean?’  The clue is in her surname of course.  German parentage.

‘Your voissus,’ she said, a little more distinctly.  ‘I like your voiuces!’

I drove the van home on something of a high, a great evening, and a young member of the audience commenting on my vocal skills.  I parked a few doors down from the house of my lovely hosts, Pauline and Michael, and after a cuppa, went to bed.

Next day I approached the van, still on something of a high, to feel that rapidly change into a sickening sinking sensation in my stomach.  The driver’s side window was open.  And this is only the third day I’ve had the van!  Wide, wide open…

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