Before I was paralyzed, like just before, I taught the 4-year-olds in primary. I team taught with my mom, I would do the first lesson and then she would go with them into sharing time and the second part of my calling was to attend Sunday School and my Young Single Adult activities. In retrospect, I believe I had a very wise bishop.
But initially I scoffed at the calling – a TEACHER for the 4-year-olds??? Really? What could I even teach them? Their brains are too tiny to understand important points of doctrine.
But I accepted the calling, not because I’m supposed to “always” accept callings, but because I like doing my part wherever I can fit within my home ward. And I really do believe that you’re always supposed to accept callings. Except if you have a spiritual revelation not to (I’ve actually had that happen…twice…in a row. It was uncomfortable to say the least. But everything was made clear when my husband and I very unexpectedly moved within a few weeks after being extended the calls). Go figure 😉
But okay, back to teaching the 4-year-olds. I went to get set apart for this calling with the same dismissive-but-willing (if such a marriage in thoughts could exist) attitude I’d originally had. But as the very wise bishop put his hands on my head to set me apart in this very small, but important, calling, my eyes didn’t close, they widened in surprise as he began to list things these little children could understand.
I hadn’t shared my thoughts on this calling with my good bishop. I hadn’t told him I thought children were unintelligent. I hadn’t let on that I was anything other than willing to be their teacher. But the Savior, Whose church this is, knew my heart and knew my haughtiness and my inexperience with kids. The Savior knew what I didn’t know – how and what to teach His children.
They can understand that Jesus Christ is their Brother.
They can understand that He wants them to be good.
They can understand that they lived in heaven before they came to this earth…
With a new perspective, I taught that wonderful tiny class. We built a temple with chairs, we went on “field trips” down the hallway. We all learned the gospel, together. and I found out just how un-tiny their little minds were.
And now that I have someone tiny in my own home, I am grateful for the experience to be a primary teacher who learned a very valuable lesson. So I tell her things of the eternities. She can’t say more than dad, mom, and bubbles, but she will pretend to feed Jesus with her pink plastic spoon – because she knows He has a body. She knows He can eat because she’s heard the story again and again of when He ate fish with the Apostles after He was resurrected.
She knows there’s balls on the top of the spires on the temple because we look at the picture and talk about eternal families…she might be more interested in the balls on top, but she’s still getting the massively eternal truth inside her tiny, tender, and intelligent mind.