> The Sunday School Teacher > > By Robin Lee Shope > > Miss Swan couldn't take being a Sunday school teacher any longer. Not for > another Sunday! This handful of disrespectful teenagers snapped their gum > during prayer time and read magazines during Bible study. But most awful of > all, at prayer request they asked the Lord to increase their weekly > allowances! > > "I have had it with you. I quit!" she screamed at the students. > > "Cool," Rick said nodding in approval. He was the rudest kid she'd ever > met. > > It took two months to find a new replacement for that Sunday school class. > The pastor escorted Miss Betty Ray in to meet the pseudo-angelic-looking > group. New in town, she hadn't heard of their reputation for chasing off > teachers. By the look of her pink dress, one size too small, and her bad > blonde bleach job, the students obviously felt they had an easy mark. Soon > bets were taken as to how long Miss Betty would last. > > Betty introduced herself, stating that she recently came from the South. > She certainly looked like a southern belle who wore outdated clothes and > whose beauty had peaked a decade earlier, only she didn't know it yet. > Snickers rippled in the room as she rummaged through the huge shoulder bag > she carried for a purse. > > "Have any of you ever been out of state?" she asked in a friendly tone. A > few hands went up. > > "Anyone travel beyond five hundred miles?" One hand went up as the > snickering diminished. > > "Anyone visited outside the country?" > > No hands went up now. The silent teens were puzzled. What did this have to > do with anything? Was she using psychology on them, or was she just plain > clueless?" > > Finally, Betty's bony hand struck on what she had been searching for in her > handbag. Pulling up a long tube, she unrolled a map of the world. > > "What else do you have in there? Lunch?" someone cracked. > > Betty smiled lightly and answered, "Cookies for later." > > "Cool," Rick quipped. > > Then she pointed with a long fingernail to an odd-shaped continent. > > "I was born here," she tapped with her finger. "And I lived here until I > was about your age." > > Everyone craned their neck to see where it was. > > "Is that Texas?" someone sitting in the back asked. > > "Not even close. It is India." Here eyes twinkled with joy. > > "How did you get way over there to be born?" > > Betty laughed. "My parents were missionaries there, and that is where my > mother was when I came into the world." > > "Cool!" Rick leaned back in his chair duly impressed. > > Betty fumbled again in her purse, this time pulling out a handful of old > wrinkled pictures along with a tin of chocolate chip cookies. They passed > the pictures around, viewing each with great interest. Dark faces stared up > from the photos, frozen in time. The kids studied them as they bit into the > sweets. > > "You don't have to be a missionary – everyone can do something in this > world to help another," Miss Betty said. > > The hour quickly slid by as she told them her stories about faraway places > and what the people were like there and how they lived. > > "Wow, this is as exciting as TV!" one young girl told her. > > Sunday after Sunday, Betty came to class, tying her lessons to their > everyday lives. She told the teens how they could make a difference right > now. The students grew to love her, bleached blonde hair and all. The more > they liked her, the lovelier she became. > > Betty taught that Sunday school class for twenty years. Though she never > married, or had children of her own, the town came to think of her as a > surrogate parent since she taught two generations of children. > > At last, her hair grew into a natural gray. Increasing wrinkles about her > mouth and eyes added character to her cherub face. Her hands began to shake > with age. Every now and then, she received a letter from a former student. > There was a doctor, a research scientist, a homemaker, a businessman, and > many teachers among them. > > One day she reached into her mailbox and pulled out a blue envelope with a > familiar foreign stamp in the upper right-hand corner. In the left corner > was the name of a boy in that very first Sunday school class, years ago. > She recalled how he'd always liked her cookies and seemed so interested in > her lessons. A picture slid out of the envelope and onto her lap. Squinting > her eyes, she smiled at the man in the photo, still seeing the teenage boy > in him. Standing in the rubble, in the city of Delhi, India, he stood with > other volunteers who had come to help the earthquake victims. > > The caption read, "Because of you, I am here now." > .·:*´¨`*:·..·:*´¨`*:·. *: * Richiele * * *·. .·* `*·-:¦:-*´ ³´`*:»§«:*´`³