Meeting the Boys for the First Time

That Sunday turned out to be one of those days when so many things happen that you figure God really must be trying to tell you something, if only you could figure out what!

I followed my usual practice of taking time during the church's early (8:15 AM) service to arrange the activities in the room and to review the Bible story and the lesson. I even had time to try out a new photocopier that had been given to the church, making copies of some extra materials that could enhance the lesson.

I was sitting back in the classroom when one of the church members, an older gentleman, stepped in. He told me that the pastor's daughter had gotten sick during the service, and the mother would need to take their children home; could I play keyboard for the second service? Of course I was happy to do so, and I grabbed up my purse to head upstairs, planning to slip discreetly into the sanctuary so Betty could leave immediately.  But I met her in the hall and learned that she planned to finish out the early service, so I didn't have to rush.

Back downstairs once again, I gathered my breath and reviewed my revised expectations for the morning: the children I would see, the possible helper, the activities, the Bible story, what time I would need to leave to get ready for worship - that sort of thing.  The helper arrived - Mary, the teenage daughter - and I learned that her great-grandfather was truly very ill and not expected to survive.  I felt especially appreciative that she was giving her time to help out in the class, and I began giving her a brief rundown of the way we operated in that style of teaching, since I didn't know whether she had ever helped in that way before.  She seemed to be quite capable and confident and definitely willing to help.  I encouraged her to look around, to become acquainted with the room, so that she would be able to use the children's playtime and activities as conversation starters to talk about the Bible truths and the story.

It was time for the early service to conclude, and soon some of our children should start arriving - the ones who had attended first service.  Out in the hall I could hear sounds of some younger children in motion.  And then into the room rushed two new little boys that I had never seen before.  Looking around curiously, eagerly; checking out with their eyes the toys, the pictures on the walls, the cabinets, the lights in the ceiling above.  They said nothing, and they didn't look at me; they just looked around everywhere, taking it all in as they moved quickly around the room from one place to another.