We have successfully, I believe, insured ourselves against any future speaking assignments in the Hauula 1st Ward. This is not to say that there was any sort of fiasco, just that maybe the planning could have been better. They could have planned, for instance, to have a youth speaker (or two!) instead of “letting” the two of us have the whole meeting. They could have also planned to have a rest hymn that had more than one verse. But they didn’t. Of course, it was Liz who quickly glanced at the clock to ascertain the time and, in her haste, misread it, cut her talk short, and sat down at least five minutes before she really should have. Oops! And although Micah did his best to fill the time up, we still got out of Sacrament meeting 7 minutes early (which meant 7 minutes more of Sunday School, 7 minutes more of Primary). Micah did a nice job on his talk about obedience, but the only words Brother Alo had for Liz were, “Next time, speak longer.” However, the deacons did get a kick out of the stories Liz told about Micah’s car troubles. At least we know people were listening. Even the 12 year-olds.
But the Sacrament meeting stress was nothing compared to the CTR 5B class period. There were 8 kids, but the CTR 5A class had 9 and their room was smaller than mine, so we switched. The room was tiny. With 8 chairs and a table, there was very little room for the door to open. The kids kept putting their feet up on the table. The AC was on, but not doing a very good job of keeping things cool. It didn’t smell very good in there. But we pressed on. Unfortunately, the kids didn’t seem very interested in learning about obeying the law. They were plenty interested in knocking on the wall, poking their neighbors, peaking out the door, and noticing that my feet were turning red from standing for so long. They asked me where the treats were. There are no treats; we do not come to church to eat treats, I said. But Auntie Kathy always brought treats, they said. I’m not Auntie Kathy. But Auntie Kathy always wore a pink shirt. Can’t argue with that. I was wearing a pink shirt. My patience was wearing thin, but we only had 5 minutes left. That was when some father decided to discipline his child right outside our classroom window. I tried to talk over him, but I think the kids heard the two slaps, and they definitely heard the crying. It was kind of a demoralizing day. Next week will be better. Or maybe the one after that. I will conquer the five year-olds. I will love them, and they will love me.
Just you wait, Henry Higgins, just you wait.