Kindergarten Sunday School Class Toadie
I don't know what compelled me to do it.
I'd volunteered for kiddie Sunday school class duties before, but only because someone else was a no-show and a substitute was needed. And it was for the little guys with the attention spans of lovebugs.
So when the pastor's wife asked me to become a permanent Sunday school teacher for the kiddos, I couldn't refuse.
I went through all the training with the other teachers, some of whom said, "Thank God I didn't get the kindergartners."
Meanwhile, I was thinking, "Thank God I didn't get the junior high kids."
I'm no Bible expert, and I figured anything above second grade would be above my knowledge level, and I'd be drummed out and cast into a pit of chiggers or forced to sit around with a bunch of lepers and watch a Houston Astros game.
So I got the kindergartners. Mercifully, I was paired with experienced veteran whom I was told would do just about everything whether I liked it or not, leaving me the role of understudy, go-fer, toadie, apprentice, etc.
Which was just dandy with me.
A potential wrinkle in my new role was having my son, Curt, in the class. He has become quite uppity since he started school this year. I'm not sure what the problem is, but I'm starting to explore the possibility of military school in his near future.
My first class, Sept. 2, went well. The kids had fun, and no one to my knowledge did anything to warrant a check mark in God's report card.
Yesterday was a different story.
Curt was a pill from the moment he got up, so I knew it was going to be a long day.
Sunday school started out fine, but then Curt got disruptive, and I had to pull him out of class, which horrified some of the other kids, who didn't know he was my son. (I later made sure they knew I was his daddie.)
After a stern lecture, Sunday class continued without incident.
Until the art part.
The lead teacher rolled out a long sheet of paper and got out paints. The idea was to pain the bottom of the kids' little piggies and have them walk across the paper in some kind of "Walk With Jesus" gesture.
I waited at the other end of the paper, with paper towels and a bucket of water to swab off the paint.
My short end of the drumstick quickly turned into a mess. There was a lot of clapping and chanting involved in the production, and this got on Curt's nerves.
Then, out of nowhere, something horrible happened.
Curt stood up from his chair and hollered, "I HATE JESUS!" He said it several times before the other teacher and I corrected him.
I was helpless to do anything in a punishment sort of way, because kids and their painted feet were walking across the paper, and a heinous cleanup project would have ensued if I didn't keep up the washing.
I'm sure Curt didn't realize what he was saying, and the other teacher dismissed it as him just feeling his oats.
All I know is that this military school option is growing on me.
I'd volunteered for kiddie Sunday school class duties before, but only because someone else was a no-show and a substitute was needed. And it was for the little guys with the attention spans of lovebugs.
So when the pastor's wife asked me to become a permanent Sunday school teacher for the kiddos, I couldn't refuse.
I went through all the training with the other teachers, some of whom said, "Thank God I didn't get the kindergartners."
Meanwhile, I was thinking, "Thank God I didn't get the junior high kids."
I'm no Bible expert, and I figured anything above second grade would be above my knowledge level, and I'd be drummed out and cast into a pit of chiggers or forced to sit around with a bunch of lepers and watch a Houston Astros game.
So I got the kindergartners. Mercifully, I was paired with experienced veteran whom I was told would do just about everything whether I liked it or not, leaving me the role of understudy, go-fer, toadie, apprentice, etc.
Which was just dandy with me.
A potential wrinkle in my new role was having my son, Curt, in the class. He has become quite uppity since he started school this year. I'm not sure what the problem is, but I'm starting to explore the possibility of military school in his near future.
My first class, Sept. 2, went well. The kids had fun, and no one to my knowledge did anything to warrant a check mark in God's report card.
Yesterday was a different story.
Curt was a pill from the moment he got up, so I knew it was going to be a long day.
Sunday school started out fine, but then Curt got disruptive, and I had to pull him out of class, which horrified some of the other kids, who didn't know he was my son. (I later made sure they knew I was his daddie.)
After a stern lecture, Sunday class continued without incident.
Until the art part.
The lead teacher rolled out a long sheet of paper and got out paints. The idea was to pain the bottom of the kids' little piggies and have them walk across the paper in some kind of "Walk With Jesus" gesture.
I waited at the other end of the paper, with paper towels and a bucket of water to swab off the paint.
My short end of the drumstick quickly turned into a mess. There was a lot of clapping and chanting involved in the production, and this got on Curt's nerves.
Then, out of nowhere, something horrible happened.
Curt stood up from his chair and hollered, "I HATE JESUS!" He said it several times before the other teacher and I corrected him.
I was helpless to do anything in a punishment sort of way, because kids and their painted feet were walking across the paper, and a heinous cleanup project would have ensued if I didn't keep up the washing.
I'm sure Curt didn't realize what he was saying, and the other teacher dismissed it as him just feeling his oats.
All I know is that this military school option is growing on me.
posted by Brian Pearson at 10:48 AM
3 Comments:
Tough day. I hope next Sunday is better!
It is the nature of the beast that one's own child will be the most unruly person in the class, if you are teaching, or leading worship, for that matter.
While doing my seminary internship in a small Oklahoma town, my son was walking home with some school buddies. Of course, they all knew that his mom was the pastor of a church. One day the conversation turned to 10-year-old issues of faith.
Each of the boys made comments concerning their beliefs, then asked my son if he believed in God. His answer? "No! I don't." Which of course he came home and immediately reported to me, and then awaited my reaction.
My response? "That's ok. Faith is something you have to determine to yourself. A second-hand faith is worth exactly what you pay for it."
Five minutes later, he was wandering through the house humming "We gather together to ask the Lord's blessing."
Faith journeys take many twists and turns, especially if one of your parents end up teaching the class.
Hang in there! Your son's doing fine!
Ahh Funny that I came across this.
I myself, just volunteered to Kindergarten CCD. My daughter
will be starting Kindergarten in the fall, and most of the kids she knows are will be attending different schools. I knew some families were memebers of my church, and what better way to stay connected.
Second grade would be stretching it for me though.. Kindergarten is where I belong.. "singingskies" advice is good and words that i will keep in mind. Volunteeering is a huge gesture just in itself.. You'll do fine and so will your son.. keep the faith!!
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