Mean, Naughty Pharaoh and the Plague of Owies

It's been a while since I spent some quality time with four-year-olds, so when I was asked to substitute teach for the preschool Sunday school class for a few weeks, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I wasn't even quite sure any more what four-year-olds could do and understand. But I found the four-year-olds to be lots of fun, and Moses has never been more interesting to me than when I was telling his story to them.

The first week was a little disconcerting for the students. It was only the second week of Sunday school for the season, and already they had a different teacher from the one they had had the previous week. So I explained that their teacher had just had a new baby, and she needed to rest up for a few weeks before she came back to be their teacher. We went on with our lesson about Moses and the burning bush, and everything went pretty well. I was trying to explain to them that it was a miraculous thing that the bush never burned up. I picked up a paper and asked them, "What would happen if I lit this paper on fire? What would it look like after it burned for awhile?" Daniel wanted me to demonstrate what it would look like right then and there. I suggested we should just use our imaginations. I also learned in week 1 how quickly class time is over when we got the five-minute warning and we hadn't even started our crafts yet.

Week 2 had the kids asking me when "Mrs. Ybema" would be back. It didn't feel like a great start to the lesson, especially because Mrs. Ybema had been their teacher last year when they were three. I told them that Mrs. Tripp would be back as soon as she had rested up some more from having her baby. While the kids were coloring a picture of some children, Kristina suddenly spoke up and said, "Boys are brownish." She was, in fact, coloring the boy in her picture brown. I said, "Look at Jacob (the lone boy in the class). He isn't brownish." But Kristina insisted, "Boys are brownish." Good to know, Kristina.

Finally, last week, the kids seemed to be comfortable with me. During song time, they turned their little faces to watch me as we sang songs and did the motions, wanting to get it right. Nobody asked when the teacher would be back. In fact, Morgan, who is finally learning that I'm the one who is supposed to talk and she is the one who is supposed to listen, called me teacher. We learned about the first nine plagues that God sent to judge mean, naughty pharaoh (Kristina's apt description—he was mean and naughty). We also decided to change the name of the plague of boils to the plague of owies. And if you're four, a plague of owies is much more terrible than a plague of boils.

So now my time of service is over. Mrs. Tripp has rested up from having her baby and will be taking the class back. And even though I've been with them for only three weeks, I will miss the four-year-olds: Jacob's beautiful brown eyes and blond curls; Morgan's chatter; Emily's answer to every question (God—which, in fact, is the answer, and I hope she never forgets it); Kristina's four-year-old sense of humor; and Grace and Daniel and their cuteness. We've learned a lot of important things about Moses, God's power, and God's love for His people. And that boys are brownish.