If someone had told me 20 years ago that I would be teaching pre-school Sunday School, I would have told them they were crazy! Thinking that I would “do my time” when my son was in pre-school, I reluctantly “volunteered” to teach the threes. Even though Drew is now a senior in high school, I am a permanent fixture in the kids wing of Hernando Baptist Church. Surely, some of my richest blessings have come from these amazing babes!
Want open, completely honest and forthcoming conversation? Talk to a three year old.
One Sunday I was out of my regular perfume and tried a squirt of something new. Dashing off to church, I didn’t think much of it until I saw Tyler staring at me with his nose wrinkled up. “Miss Martha,” he says. “You need to take bath. You stinky.” He was right. I will surely never wear that stuff again
At Thanksgiving, we talk about all the things at our homes for which we are thankful. “We got ants and wasps,” beamed Sadie. “I’m real thankful for them, but my mama’s not.”
They tell me when I have on too much lipstick, or when my skirt is a little tight, or my hair is sticking up. They let me know quickly if I say the wrong words to their favorite song or Bible story. There is nothing more brutally honest than a three year old. But, they are also so generous with their hugs and kisses, their laughter and their joy. They tell me often that they love me. Through their shiny eyes it is plain to see that their hearts and minds are wide open to learning new things and having new experiences. Small things – a handful of Cheez-its, chocolate milk, a walk to the nursery to see the babies, a favorite book in story circle - delight them. How easily they are amused - laughing hysterically at silly songs or funny faces. How accepting and caring they are of each other – telling me when someone has a tummy ache or is feeling lonely for mommy.
When do we begin to lose that enthusiasm for life & learning? For honesty and openness? For receiving big hugs and giving them? For saying the words, “I Love You!” For laughing with our mouths open and crying loudly when we hurt or are lonely.
Sitting around our table, eating a snack of Goldfish and apple juice, I am explaining to them that we should all try to be more like Jesus – more loving, more forgiving, sharing our toys, being a helper.. Shy Ella, with her big brown eyes, who usually says very little, choosing instead to quietly soak in what the other children are saying, turns to me and says, “I want to be just like you, Miss Martha.”
My constant prayer is that my babies see Jesus in me. That I never disappoint them or discourage them. That they see love and forgiveness and hope and grace. The same things that I see in them. The very same things.
