To My Sunday School Kids (part two)

LJ, you're in small group almost every single week (often enough that the other kids worry about you being sick when  you're not there), slipping in part way through story, with that "Oops. I"m late again." look on your face, while you try to make eye contact to let me know there you made it. You love getting to know things about people, and I love the way that you listen to them with your whole body, like you are trying to absorb enough of who they are to understand their words on a cellular level. Your eyes spark up when you are talking about things that make you happy, and you always have a God story to share when we get to the sitting part of small group.

A, at first you seemed shy, willing to come stand by my side before story and talk my ear off, but not so interested in getting to know the other kids. You have become our resident "new person finder," though, and, almost every week, we have a new kid in our circle, because you have bypassed the system and told them that they could come with us. I never know if the next thing to come out of your mouth is going to be about playing "ninjas" or about an angel that you saw last week. Like LJ, there is a conviction in your voice when you talk about God things that I would challenge an adult to match.

AB, you are our resident poet type, and everything that is so common to girls of Eastern Washington families. One second you are showing my your new shoes or leggings, and, the next, you are talking about the gun show you went to. I love the way that you simply adopted yourself into my group - even before A could get a hold of you - and then settled there. Everything you do is done as if your life depended on it. You watch us all with eagle eyes, like you are trying to x-ray everyone's motives, but, occasionally, you throw caution to the wind and decide, just a for a few moments, to trust us recklessly. Those moments are the best gift you could give.