What Children Want Most (A Good Christmas-y Tie In Repost)

Behold, my first grade class (I'm the fella in the blue Star Trek shirt on the front row. Yeah, I'm cool like that):

My first grade teacher passed away last week. She had taught first grade for 37 years. I guess when something works well, there's no need to change it.

I distinctly remember NOT learning how to read in first grade. For me it just "happened". I do remember reading out loud for Miss Hehn (later Mrs. Purdon) about a dog name Spot and how he loved to run, and I remember being so proud. Not proud in the nasty, arrogant way adults are, but the face-beaming, heart-warming way that six year olds are when they've accomplished something. I credit Miss Hehn for that.

I also remember that I felt safe in Miss Hehn's class. I knew she loved me, and I trusted her. First grade was completely comfortable for me. Even at her funeral, the eulogy spoke of the countless times her students called her "mom" or "grandma" because she was such a comforting presence in class that they forgot where they were. I love and admire Mrs. Purdon for that.

In my church setting, I am a teacher. I am also a father. I guess the two are somewhat interchangeable, or should be. And what I've learned being a father and a teacher is that a most effective vehicle for delivering a lesson, whether in math or morality, is a loving heart toward the child being taught (we can talk about teaching adults another day...) I owe this, at least in part, to Mrs. Purdon as well.

Some time ago I read that if you're a father, your children's self-image is primarily derived from how they think you feel about them. I don't think I could agree more.

What children want most is to know that an adult loves them (oh, and by the way, discipline is included under the heading of love). I'd like to say "parents" in place of "adult" but there are so many kids who have no parents, or at least parents who will ever really love them. But I guess if I were to boil this down to something targeted at a male audience, I'd say that a child only wants to see their father smile at them.

I ask myself (ask yourself): When does my day brighten? My hope soar? My heart sing? When I remember that my Father smiles at me - that the One who chose me before the foundation of the world and sought me out and saved me through Christ loves me constantly and consistently and with infinite care.

Miss Hehn loved me and I thrived in her class. I'm trying my best to love my sons and help them to thrive. My Savior loves me and when I let myself believe it, I thrive.