Humor

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“Mrs. Deibel, Steve said the ‘s’ word!” The six year old voice rang across the
classroom. It was one of those small incidents that wouldn’t normally cause the average
first grade teacher to plummet into spiraling thoughts of ever thickening plots on how she
could make her entire class disappear without it seeming suspect. Today, however, today
was different. The jubilant declaration by one of the “innocents” involved was the
proverbial straw that broke that poor camel’s back. I decided, thanks to an overwhelming
outpouring of God’s grace and mercy, not to send my gaggle of 19 first graders on a
scavenger hunt to find the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny’s secret hideout. Instead, I
quietly call Raylene, my dear one who took such joy in pronouncing each student’s
misdeeds to the rest of us, and asked her to clarify her statement.
“I told you, Steve said the ‘s’ word,” she insisted with just a hint of whine in her
voice.
“Are you sure, Raylene? That’s an awfully naughty thing to say. Are you sure
you didn’t misunderstand him?” I questioned, desperately hoping to diffuse the situation
rather than deal with the prospect of having to tell one of the higher-ups in our church
that her son had publicly defiled his precious little tongue with such filth.
“Yes! I’m sure! He definitely said, ‘s…’” I stopped her just before she committed
the same unthinkable act and instead asked her to send Steve to see me at my desk.
“Yes, Mrs. Deibel?” inquired the angelic little boy with sandy blonde hair and
ocean blue eyes. You know the ones that could have just knocked over a convenience
store and convinced you with their facial expressions that they were as innocent as the
day is long.
“Steve, Raylene tells me that you said the ‘s’ word. Is this true?” A look of slight
confusion came across little Steve’s face as he, I assumed, was recalling the conversation
in question. Suddenly his innocent eyes faded to shame as they floated down and began
inspecting a glob of glue that had fallen on his sneaker during art class.
“Yes,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Well, Steve, you know that those kinds of words aren’t allowed in the classroom
or in this school.” Once again, confusion crossed his face, and I began to think that
something wasn’t quite right. I asked him to whisper in my ear what “s” word he had
said, assuring him it would not count against him as a second offense. After a pause, he
looked around the room coyly before tip-toeing up to my ear and whispering:
“Stupid.” Stupid! All of this commotion over the word stupid? I was so relieved
that it had not been one of the more dreaded words that one hates to think about escaping
from the lips of a child. However, I had taught my students that that particular word was
not allowed. How could I forget?
That day, I learned a lesson that will not be easily forgotten. We get so caught up
in the do’s and don’ts, in the right’s and wrong’s, in the details of the moment, that we
forget that everything we do is to be done in a spirit of love, of compassion. I was so
worried about the big no-no’s my students my commit, I forgot to model that we are to
be mindful of one another, and to not say or do anything that will contradict the message
of love, acceptance and hope found in our Christ Jesus.
Let us not forget that love is to be the motivator in every word, deed, and thought.
It took a six year old to teach me. This day was certainly one of those days; one of those
days where you learn a lesson for life.

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