Squeak, squeak. Hello there! My name is Eddie. I don’t know why my name is Eddie; but Susan started calling me that after Mrs. Peters tried to kill me with the, squeak, broom.
Oh I’m sorry, squeak, let me explain some things. I am the church mouse here at First Baptist. My family have been the mice around, squeak, here for several generations. I have been selected to give you a tour of the church’s Sunday school. I must ask you, however, squeak, not to let anyone see me. The children like seeing me from time to time but poor Mrs. Peters, she starts screaming and chasing me with whatever she can get her hands on, squeak. Let’s hide in the cabinet under the sink; we can see through the crack between the doors.
Shhhhh, hear that? The first people are arriving. Look! Those high heels, that is Mrs. Peters herself. I know it’s her because she’s the only woman that wears high heels anymore. My dad tells me, all the women used to wear them when he was just a wee little mouse, squeak.
Look! Look! There. See those shoes? The old ones? That’s Larry. Every Sunday he comes with a bunch of kids. Those shoes of his aren’t that old they are just worn. I hear the kids talking about how Larry walks around the neighborhood every Saturday knocking on doors, squeak, to see which children he’ll be picking up on Sunday morning.
You’ll like this. The kids are about to sing. Some just stand there, some jump around every-which-way, but most of them move just like Mr. J does. The kids love him. I’m not sure, squeak, what his name is but all the kids call him, “Mr. J.” Come now, if you want to see one of the classes we will need to leave now, when they aren’t looking, so Mrs. Peters won’t, squeak, come after me.
Come on, squeak, you can fit through here, I do it all the time. My uncle chewed out this hole years ago. Every once in a while they paint over it but they have never fixed it. Ok, ok, squeak, it’s class time, here they come.
Most of these kids, squeak, come with Larry, they are all-around eight to ten years old. Oh, look there is Susan, she is the one that started everyone calling me Eddie. She loves to sing. She has sung all by herself, in front of all the adults upstairs. She loves the Lord and is not afraid to tell the other kids about Him.
See that boy with, squeak, Spiderman on his shirt? That’s Noah. Miss Jane, the teacher, I’ve seen her after the kids have left the room get down on her knees and cry and pray over him. Noah doesn’t know his dad and his mom is never here. I don’t know why. Some sundays he acts like a perfect little boy, other sundays he gets into trouble all the time. He’s hit other kids, he’s shouted cuss words at Miss Jane, it’s amazing what he has done, but he keeps on coming. Miss Jane keeps praying that little Noah will find the Lord before he starts looking to fill the void in his heart in other places.
There are other, squeak, classes but let’s go down to the teen class and see what’s going on there. We can look though the hole next to the plug in.
Mr. J teaches the teens. He’s really good with them. He talks to them and they talk with him, it’s almost like one big conversation about the Bible and life. Look at them, they think they have their whole life in front of them, some will plan for it, some seem already not to care. Sandy, she dropped out of school this year. Jim is going to college this fall to be a preacher. Sam, squeak, has enlisted in the army and will leave after graduation. Cindy just got her license and wrecked the car a week later. Mr. J has talked to some of them one on one after class, sometimes clean through church. He loves them, I hope they, squeak, see it.
Oh, there is the bell, Sunday school is over. Look. Mrs. Peters is coming down the hall. I think I’ll give the kids a good laugh, please, squeak, pray her aim with the broom hasn’t gotten any better. Bye.
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