President Uchtdorf’s Saturday morning talk (echoed in part by President Monson on Sunday morning) about the diamonds of eternal truth found in the Restored Gospel included these lines:
I believe every human being carries in his or her heart, some form of fundamental questions regarding life itself: Where did I come from? Why am I here? What will happen after I die? These kinds of questions have been asked by mortals since the dawn of time. Philosophers, scholars and pundits have spent their lives and fortunes for answers.
I’m grateful that the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ has answers to the most complex questions in life. These answers are taught in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They are true. They are plain. They are straightforward and easy to understand. They are inspired, and we teach them to our three-year-olds in the Sunbeams class.
In the mid-20th century, three-year-olds were Moonbeams. It was the four-year-olds who were then Sunbeams, and the five-year-olds were Stars. We met on a weekday afternoon – Wednesday, if I recall correctly (Tuesday was Relief Society, and Thursday was MIA).
I was only 11 years old when I was given my first Primary class – a half a dozen of those three-year-olds. I should have been in Primary myself for another few months and don’t really know why I was called, whether it was because they were short-handed or because they realized what a good thing it would be for me. Whatever the reason, every week I gathered my little flock of babies and mother-henned them down the hall to our classroom where I had posted colorful pictures on the walls at their eye level and arranged the miniature chairs in a tight circle where they could lean against me if they wanted to and I could reach out to touch a restless knee and draw a wiggly child back into the lesson.
The lessons in the manual generally had titles like “My Heavenly Father Has Given Me [one blessing or another].” We talked about how much we loved the sun, or good food, or coming to Primary, with stories and finger plays and songs.
Without question, the children’s favorite lesson, that year and in every following year I taught that age group, was one with a title something like “My Heavenly Father Has Given Me a Body that Grows” – one of President Uchtdorf’s diamonds. I took a small pile of baby clothes once worn by my brothers and me, including this pink dress made for me by my aunt, and pink booties crocheted for me by my mother. The children held the baby clothes against themselves, giggling about how much they had grown since they had been babies who could have fit into those clothes. This visual evidence of the passage of time and the development of their bodies made them laugh with pleasure. They understood instinctively that they would continue to progress, and they grasped some part of those “plain” and “straightforward” and “easy to understand” answers to one of “the most complex questions regarding life itself: … Why am I here?”
My little flocks of three-year-olds, who liked to hold on to my skirt as we walked down the hall, and loved to stand and shake out the wiggles in the middle of class, won’t remember the joy they felt as they recognized how much they had grown, but I hope they still have an understanding that “My Heavenly Father Has Given Me a Body” with a purpose. I hope they recognize their knowledge of that purpose as one of the diamonds of the Restored Gospel.
My first little three-year-olds will be turning 50 this year.
Wonderful! Love this!
Oh, Ardis, what sweet tender memories!
I have so much love and gratitude because of this post for the teacher who is remembered only in automatic actions and the knowledge seemingly gained by osmosis. The things they learned from the littlest acts of your service cannot be remembered. The big things, they think they always knew. Thanks.
I just got released as Sunbeam teacher, and this lovely post makes me sad all over again.
Thank you, Ardis, that’s such a thoughtful and moving post.
Unusual article beautifully done.
What a wonderful post. Love this.
So sweet. One of my daughters was a Sunbeam last year and the other is excited to be a Sunbeam next year.
After spending several years in Primary, I am not shy in proclaiming that it is the right place for me to be on Sunday. I was genuinely sad to leave when I was called to work elsewhere. Thanks for sharing your memories!
My first calling in the Church (after joining as a convert at age 14) was to teach the 10-year-olds in Junior Sunday School. I was 16 years old, and my class consisted of five 10-year-old girls. I would teach a principle and ask a question; they would look at each other and giggle. Rinse and repeat. It was pretty unproductive. I don’t think I had the calling more than a month or two before the Sunday School presidency decided it might be better to call someone else (most likely an adult woman) as the teacher.
That might have ruined teaching for me as a calling, but a year or so later, I was called to attend the Teacher Development class — back when said class lasted 12 weeks and had an inch-thick manual. (Plus, this was in the pre-block days, so Sunday School itself lasted a lot longer.) What’s more, the teacher of the class was Philip Peterson; he was not only our former bishop, he had a PhD in education and was either a superintendent or assistant superintendent of one of the school districts there in San Diego County. He was an outstanding teacher, and I learned a tremendous amount from him.
I taught the 11-year-old scouts when I was 14 and 15. I really loved it. Now it seems odd but it was perfect for me. I had wanted to do things with the scouts in Primary, but we embroidered instead. (I liked embroidering too.) So it seemed natural for me to climb the trees with the boys–even for Primary lessons. It was Thursday after school so we could do that. It’s a great way to keep their attention.
Ardis,
When did the “Moonbeams” class discontinue? I thought that I remembered there being Moonbeams, and I think that I remember being a “Moonbeam” but until I read your post I thought that it was just my imagination making it all up. I would have turned 3 on Jan 1, 1976. I definitely remember there being “Stars” but I was sure that my mind was making up the “Moonbeams” 🙂
I’d have to poke around in class manuals to be able to answer precisely andrew, but it was at or just after the establishment of the block schedule, when they first eliminated some of the class names in favor of the two-year schedule (Star A and Star B, for example, instead of a distinct name for each individual year).
In the pre-block days, they called this part of the Primary program the “Skylet-Pilot” series — Moonbeams, Sunbeams, and Stars for the lights of the sky, of course, and the next three years that were Top Pilots and a series of other “pilot” names that changed through the years. I have a hunch that they kept Sunbeams as a class name and eliminated Moonbeams because of the song “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.”
Thanks Ardis. I can just remember getting off of the school bus and walking to primary one day a week after school when I was in about First and Second grade. I would have turned 8 in 1981 and I seem to remember it being just before that time that the switch to the block schedule happened, but I may be incorrect on that.
I was particularly struck by the last line, especially so since one of my Cub Scouts who wiggled and giggled and ran around and did all those little boy activities so many years ago is now my Stake President.
I love this. So much.
Thank you, Amanda, and all who have commented. When Pres. Uchtdorf mentioned the Sunbeams, I flashed on this memory in confirmation of what he said.