Sunday, May 1, 2011

FIRE! Repeat, please.

It's my turn to teach Sunday school again. I must say I do it with such grace. Picture, if you will, me in an insanely too big and flowy skirt, squatting down on top of the kid-sized tables in the center of a small class room. I'm frantically cutting yarn and strands of crepe paper to make the Pentecost fire which I am then taping to a big white poster board. The idea is to then tape said board to the ceiling and upon the appropriate point in the story releasing the flames ontop of the unsuspecting head of three-year-olds. (Oh, excuse me, one four-year-old... ahem.. Kaiya would add.) The problem is I only made it to the class with five minutes to spare. Usually there is only one early kid but wouldn't you know it. Right on the button four kids and their accompanying parents are crowded out in the hallway. The adults had looks of a nice mixture of horror and amusement upon seeing the one adult they were about to entrust their wee one too armed with a pair of scissors, a maniac look, and a good array of red and orange nooses being haphazardly thrown around. They shrugged and skee-dattled. 
It took the same amount of tape to plaster this contraption to the ceiling that I imagine it would take to tie up my spouse. Not that I imagine such things mind you, I mean, that would be creepy. I had told the kids it was a surprise. Despite the fact it wasn't because I was late and they saw the blasted thing as I was making it. Still, even seeing me make it probably gave them no clue as to what it was. I know I didn't have one. 
After we came back from worship time we went to sit and have the story time. The poster board of red and orange things hanging down was a big hit. One little girl said: can we do the fire again? They all wisely ducked when I whooshed the "fire" over their heads. Then insane laughter set in. It seemed to just go with the story, the joy the disciples felt after the power of the Holy Spirit set upon them. So we laughed. We ran around in maniac circles in the classroom like wild caveman who had discovered fire. We opened up the windows to feel the wind "whoosh" as that was part of the story too, you see. It was a story they got. And I realized that no amount of planning and preparedness can make you like a three year old who quiet simply gets the fire thing very easily. 
I probably should have warned their parents that I told them to go run, like crazy, and shout out that Jesus loves you to everyone they meet this week. At the park. At daycare. Truth is, I hope they do. I hope it spreads like fire. Speaking of, anyone want a poster board covered in red yarn and orange crepe paper?

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