A Hard Lesson

I teach the 11 year old children in my church congregation for Sunday School.   I think it's an awesome age--they are starting to think more about the world around them and they are capable of more interesting discussions than younger kids...if only they would ever pay attention!  The downside of the age is that they are super-chatty with each other.  I have a hard time holding their attention.  Also, they are starting to get "too cool" to do things like open their scriptures.

I have eight kids that are regularly in class: 4 boys and 4 girls.  Every one of them brings their scriptures every Sunday.  But when I say, "Turn to 3rd Nephi Chapter 13" they are on another planet.  Even if I give them the page number I repeat myself a bunch of times to get the other conversations to die down and tell the kids where we are at in the lesson.

But I don't let this deter me.  I do fun things to try to make the lessons cool.  I change up how I teach each week to keep it unboring.  I bear my testimony so they will know how important this is to me.  And every week I give them a challenge to do before the next week.  How many times has someone done the challenge?  Yep.  Zero.

So the week before last, after a great lesson on the Savior's visit to the Americas, I encouraged the kids to read the chapter we had just talked about before next Sunday.  "You'll be glad if you do," I said.

"Why?  What do we get?" someone asked.

"Oh, I don't know.  Maybe just blessings from heaven.  You never know," I said.

Last Sunday I brought brownies.  And I asked who had read the chapter.

It was sooooo sad.

And soooooo funny!

They begged.  They pleaded.  They whined.  They groaned.  They cajoled.  They tried to distract me and steal them.  They promised to read it later.  They promised to read it right then.  They tried to tell me it was still Sunday, so if they read it right now (LOOK!  I'm reading it!) it would still count.  Right?

Most incredibly, they really seemed to think that I was going to give in and let them have the brownies anyway.

"But that means you made the brownies for nothing!" they wailed.

"Oh no!" I said.  "My family is going to be very, very happy that none of you read the chapter."

"Please!  PLEASE!!!"

Their protests were so loud and unending that I could hardly get a word in.  I kept trying to tell them about my new challenge for the next week.  (Choose one of the Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount and try to develop that quality during the next week.)

"Okay, okay, listen!" I said, loudly, and they all quieted down, thinking I was finally giving in.  "It is so sad that you didn't do my challenge last week.  Next week, we're all going to be back in this room again, and if you don't do my new challenge, how do you think you're going to feel then?"

"But just give us another chance this week!"

I chuckled softly and shook my head.  "This is a really hard lesson to learn, guys.  But when you die, and you're standing at the 'pearly gates', or whatever, you can't say 'Wait!  Give me another chance!  Send me back for just a minute and I'll be good, I'll be righteous real quick!'  Life isn't a test you can cram for.  You have to live it right, day by day."

Class ended, and I went to Sharing Time with the last girl in the class that hasn't turned 12 yet.  As soon as the other kids were gone she leaned over and asked, "So can I have a brownie?"

I laughed and laughed about the whole situation for the rest of the day.  They may have been 11 and 12 year olds, but they sounded just like 4 year old Annalee.  It was so hard not to laugh in front of them.

I am determined that if these kids learn nothing else this year, they are going to learn the law of the harvest!

(This week I made no-bake cookies.  Do you think I'll get to eat them myself?)