Hall of Fame

sunday schoolLast Sunday our church honored those brave, hardy souls that came week after week to teach squirrelly children about the love of Jesus in Sunday school. These are people who intentionally chose to not sleep in on Sunday mornings for a good nine months. They volunteered knowing that antsy little boys and chatty little girls would ask unbelievably hard questions about God and life and the universe.  Some of our teachers who serve week after week also have been faithful year after year.  If there was a Sunday School Teacher Hall of Fame, I would have several inductees.

Being a Sunday school teacher can be daunting and thankless.  So, at the close of the school year, we sing the praises of these unsung heroes.

After applauding the sacrifice and dedication of these wonderful people, the congregation settled in for PB’s sermon.  He was preaching on Hebrews 11 – the great “Faith Hall of Fame” chapter.  The writer names several giants of the faith like Abraham and Moses, but ends the chapter with many unnamed saints who “faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison.  They were stoned, they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword.”

That jarring statement suddenly made teaching Sunday school look pretty tame.

So far, not one of our teachers has been sawed in two.

What we call “sacrifice”, the saints of old might have called “privilege”, “opportunity to serve”, or even “joy”.  Until I am chained and put in prison, maybe I better rethink the use of the word “sacrifice”.

Second Grade

IMG_0563Second grade was awesome.  I loved my teacher.  She was young and pretty and married to the sixth grade teacher.  I found out her first name was Anita, so when we were assigned to write a story, the main character in my riveting tale was a mysterious character named Anita.  I wanted so badly to be the teacher’s pet, but she didn’t seem to pick any favorites.  Then, at the end of the year, Carla got to take home the class turtle, so I knew she loved Carla more than me.  I was crushed.  However, I did win the award for most book reports.

I felt very fancy on picture day.  My mom didn’t fuss with my hair very often, so the pin curls made me feel extra stylish and flouncy.  Too bad she didn’t cut those bangs a little straighter though.  I don’t know why I wore the same plaid dress in both my 1st and 2nd grade pictures.  Somebody wasn’t paying attention.

A few weeks into the fall quarter, Anita noticed I was having trouble seeing the blackboard from the back row.  She sent a note home and it wasn’t long before I was sporting cat-eye glasses.  By third grade, the lovely curls were chopped off in favor of the ever-popular pixie haircut.

Never again would I be as beautiful as I was in September of 1966.