Thursday, October 22, 2009

I Got To Be In Her Class

Charity by Frederick Morgan
You may not want to hear anything else about my near-perfect mother (not that she is a perfect person, but she is a pretty darn near perfect mother--she is a perfect grandmother), but I like writing about her. I think she is inspiring.

She teaches a weekly religion class for adults. The two hour class is based on scripture and Mom doesn't try to rush. Quite the opposite, in fact; she took an entire year to cover the four gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), for instance. I know from living with her that she STUDIES her lessons. She reads and searches, prays and discusses, ponders and deduces before she even sits down to write an outline for her lessons. Not only is she a correct teacher, she is also a good teacher. She is interesting and enthusiastic. When I lived near her, I went occasionally. Now, obviously, I never get to attend. She frequently tells me about their topic of study, a thought that was shared, a lesson learned, or a question introduced. The other day, she shared some of her most recent lesson with me by email. I felt bad that I couldn't be there to learn and grow under her careful tutelage.

Then I remembered: I was in her class for eighteen years.

She was my first and most dedicated teacher. Though she didn't always know the answers to my exhausting questions, I don't recall her ever answering with, "Just leave me alone." Mom studied carefully so that she was more likely to know the answers when the questions came. She prepared for the class my siblings and I attended with as much--or more--vigilance than the class she teaches now. Sometimes a school teacher would say something like, "Ask your parents about this when you get home and I'll bet they won't even know the answer." Mom always did. Of course, we sometimes brought home schoolwork that she didn't understand. She would say, tongue in check, "I could tell you the answer, but you need to find it out for yourself." And we would. Then, we'd explain it to her.

Thank you for leading the way, Mom. Thank you for letting me sit in on your class for those valuable, valuable years.


  1. sobbing gasp... hands on my heart... me-- doing the overly dramatic (but very sincere) reaction to your loving words.

    Isn't it true that the teacher always learns more than her pupil?It was a great class for me too. Actually, the very greatest, NOTHING was more important and nothing is more valuable.

  2. I think your mom is fab myself! I'd love to be in that class.