Sunday, March 20, 2011

Sunbeam Magic


Guess what I do for the second and third hour of church every Sunday?  Yup, you guessed it.  Teach the three-year-olds, who are as new to Primary as I am, also known as the Sunbeams.  The name is apt.  Those bright, shiny kids, so eager to do what's right and learn about Jesus and His gospel, have warmed, if not melted, my ridiculously-caught-up-in-my-own-worries, cold heart on more than one occasion.  Their sweet innocence reminds me why the Savior tells us to be like little children. 

Not that it's easy being a kid in Primary.  Asking an energetic, naturally-wiggly three-year-old to sit still for two hours is a tall order. And for those of you who don't know what goes on in Primary, which I didn't until I got this calling a few months ago, let me give you a brief run-down: 

1. We sit through Junior Primary with about fifty other six-and-unders, where we sing songs, listen to a lesson directed at all the kids, and of course practice sitting still. 
2. We move into our own classroom where the Sunbeams eat a snack, get a drink and go potty, get some wiggles out, do some coloring, and get to learn a lesson about a very simple gospel principle.  Today was "I am thankful for fish." 

Sounds so basic that you'd think you wouldn't have to prepare, right?  Don't be fooled.  Keeping twelve three-year-olds' attention, even with the help of a co-teacher, long enough to have them not only listen to what you're teaching but also hopefully feel the Spirit takes some premeditation.   You'd be amazed by these kids, though.  Amazed at what their little brains and hearts are capable of understanding and feeling.  Amazed at the power of one simple scipture story like Jonah and the Whale in keeping their undivided attention.  Amazed at how much you can feel the Spirit with such small pockets of quiet and such basic gospel concepts.  Amazed at how much they already know about fish! 

Anyway, my calling has surprised me is what I'm trying to say with this post.  Sure, it's a lot of crowd control.  Sure, it's exhausting (my apologies if I used to chat with you after church and now you only see the back of me as I b-line for the parking lot).  But there's no denying the warmth and happiness I feel from my loving little Sunbeams every week.

6 comments:

Jen said...

I am so glad that you are able to be Luke and his friends' teacher in Primary. They are a privileged lot to have you with them and taking the time to help them to feel the Spirit. Thank you Julianne for loving them and being patient with them every Sunday! :)

Anna R said...

LOL...Guess what I did yesterday?
Substituted for the Sunbeam class and taught the I'm thankful for fish lesson. Although, I only had 2 kiddos in class.
I love being in Primary (which happens often as I'm one of the few people available to substitute).
I'm sure the kids love having you for a teacherr each week!

Debbi said...

We are thankful for all that you do with our Sunbeams! Izzy just LOVES your class! Thank you for your preparation and love of our little ones!

Jim and Connie Jory said...

I remember Brett having that lesson and bringing home an actual fish! Amy Anderton taught that one...

Can't believe you have 50 in junior primary! That's bigger than our ENTIRE primary.....

So you are now discovering why primary is the best calling to have in the church. I feel the spirit stronger in primary than any other class (sorry RS!)

Leah Claire said...

aww...Julianne! Sunbeams might be my fav. And I know you are amazing at it. I got called to be Primary Pres back in December and am finally feeling like I can come up for air and sort of do my job properly (except for those dang Cub Scouts). We have several "runners" in our Sunbeam class, so I've gotten really good at catch and release at a moment's notice (especially when they are heading for the outside door). XOXO

Paula's Place said...

Sunbeams are my FAVORITE age group in primary - as pianist and chorister I could never take me eyes off them. Years ago I taught them and I remember it being quite a challenge! :) Mom