"sisser siff"

My son, Jesse (the champion collector), had a difficult transition into nursery at church, probably because we were in three different wards during that time. It also made the transition into Sunbeams quite the challenge, too. He hated Primary. He’d undress. He was inattentive. He was like a little lost soul. At in-service meetings the leaders discussed the inactive children and the many ways to help them be involved in Primary. No effort was made for the little lost soul, Jesse, after all, he came every week. I was with a group of ladies one day, discussing problem-solving methods and posed Jesse’s problem to them. They were full of advice. One suggested I lock him in the bathroom after church, for the amount of time he misbehaved during church. Another suggested as soon as he reached his fill of church I lock him in the car for the rest of the time. There were other suggestions, punitive and cruel, none of them appropriate in my estimation of things. It made me sick to hear it, sick to think what these mothers were doing to their own children. I went home to Jesse, took him in my arms and cried and cried, so grateful he had come to my home, to me. I would not punish him for struggling in church, I would help him through it, I would help it to be a good experience for him, I would help him love church.

The turning point came when Sister Sue Stiff became his teacher. She was very patient with him, very kind to him. She, too, wanted him to love church. Each week she sent him a kind letter, telling him how much she loved having him in her class, how much she loved him. She decorated the letters with pretty stickers. Week after week they came and then one day, after I read his letter to him, he took it in his hands and looked at the writing he was to young to read, he looked at the stickers, then he clutched the letter to his bosom and exclaimed, “I love Sisser Siff!”

I have been forever grateful to her for her kindness to him. I try, too, to be kind to the children, especially kind to those who struggle. I greet them by name and tell them how glad I am to see them, I let them sit by me on the piano bench when they get restless, let them have a life saver. Perhaps I can be the “Sister Stiff” in their lives and help them through that rough day.

And I am very careful about offering or asking for advice…