Long, long ago my first job was babysitting for my older cousin's four kids (I made fifty cents an hour if you're trying to figure out just how long ago it was). It was near Christmas so I decided, very grown-uply, to read the Christmas story out of Luke. I was 11 or 12 and it was familiar to me so I assumed it would be familiar to them too. Maybe I guessed wrong. They looked kind of glassy-eyed till I read "...in the City of David." The third child down, named David, beamed."Me!" he shouted. She means me!"
"No, stupid," said his older, worldlier sister. "She means Davy Crockett!"
Obviously every kid doesn't get the benefit of regular church attendance. I should have known after my sister invited her co-worker to church and she brought her four-year-old along. When an usher accidentally dropped the offering plate and it made a loud clatter, the little boy shouted" *#^& %! What was that???"
So when, as a young mom, I was asked to teach a class of five-year-olds in Sunday School, knowing there was a great need, I was sure this was what I was supposed to do. I mean, how could I not handle a few little kids? Only by the grace of God, of course.
In our room, since kids learn by doing, we had centers and while they were playing we related concepts concerning the Bible principles we wanted them to learn. My favorite center was "Kitchen" (You don't look surprised!) We made butter by shaking whipping cream in a baby food jar till our arms were jiggly. We made salad; everybody got to tear up lettuce. And we made applesauce. I brought in my electric skillet for that, set it on one of their little chairs so it was low enough for kids to see in, and it was really a hit. Even some adults were coming by and saying "What are you cooking in here? We can smell it clear out into the hall." Who knew that those little wooden chairs would scorch like that? It's not like it actually burst into flames or anything! (Wouldn't that have been a cool lesson? I guess maybe they were a little young to them the teach the concept of hell, though.)
One Sunday a mom dropped off her kid and then didn't leave. She looked at me a little snootily and said "I heard all you do in here is play, not teach. I wanted to see for myself." Never in my life did I say more often "Oh, look. Melinda is sharing! The Bible says 'Be ready to share.'" or "Look at Chris. He knows the Bible says "Be kind one to another" and on and on. She seemed satisfied when class was over. I refrained from saying to her "Oh, look, the Bible says "Judge not that you be not judged," but it was hard
I was just glad that she wasn't there the next week when I was telling the Bible story at the end of class. I always wrote out little verses on slips of paper and let the children pretend to read them, though I whispered it in their ears. I had written "Trust in Him at all times. Ps.62:8" That was when our son, Jake, was in the class and he knew that I knew he was learning to read, so he was somewhat insulted when I started to whisper the verse to him. "I can read it myself," he insisted. And he did. "Trust in Him at all times. Piss 62:8"
I'm still letting Jake do it himself and it's really kind of fun. Like when his own daughter was about two and apparently heard just snatches of the sermon when she was in big church once. She sat up, looked around, and said in her outdoor voice, "Jesus is dead? What do you mean Jesus is dead? Nobody told ME Jesus is dead!" I don't charge him fifty cents an hour when I babysit, though.
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