Things of Value

I was reduced to tears today thinking of what happened yesterday in church. Let me tell you about how God teaches me things...

For a few months now, our church has had an unusual family coming to our church. We are an Episcopalian church, but don't worry for all you theologians out there watching the huge rift in the Episcopal church, we are the minority voice of conservatism.

Anyway, this family is huge. It is a set of parents, and maybe even some grandparents, and as far as I can count eight children. They are Burmese refugees. I have no idea what the specifics of their story is on how they made their way to our church, but they are here.

It's been a rough few weeks, mainly for the language barrier. After kids are dismissed from regular service for children's chapel, all the kids join us. We do our same liturgical-esque program, and all of us adults wonder how much they are ingesting mainly because there is a huge language barrier. If you ask one of the kids their name, they will answer. But they won't talk to you. One of the boys, about ten, speaks English very well, and we all depend on him a lot.

After chapel the kids are dismissed to classrooms. The Burmese children don't join in at all. I usually find them playing in the bathroom or wandering halls. More than once I have steered them into a class where they are "caught" and must stay. All of us adults agree, if they are more than visitors at our church, which seems to be the case, then we need to have the same expectations of them as we do of our children. That is, they need to join us for our church programs, and that includes Sunday school. They can't be allowed to just wander the halls, and hide in the bathrooms. The one objection we hear to that is "but the language barrier". Well, us parents agree you learn a language by hearing it spoken, and what better place than Sunday School. Many of us are hall monitors finding the kids and getting them into classrooms.

It's been an interesting frustration. They want to be there. We want them there, but the barriers seem vast and hard to bridge. But it seems all of us, the family included, are determined to make it work.

And a new language was formed yesterday at church. It's the language of feeling special.

We had children's chapel. Then our pastor's wife assigned all the parts all the kids are accustomed to having for our Christmas pageant. We asked if they wanted to have parts, all their little brown eyes lit up and bobbed their heads in unison. All of the sudden, these distant little creatures weren't so distant.

Then, the job all of us moms hate--doling out the costumes, making sure they fit, and putting names on them for performance day. Our church has an impressive costume closet.

I was in charge of angels. Having both my kids as angels in the past, I know the costumes are recycled white sheets, cut to size, with collars put in, and tinsel stapled to them. From a distance, they look cute, up close, well, the tinsel has lost it's lustre.

As I asked each girl (and I fitted four or five little Burmese girls in angel costumes, the rest were shepherds off with another parent) if they wanted to be angels, their eyes lit up. I helped them take off their little jackets and slid the costumes over their heads making sure the length fit them. You would have thought I put a princess crown on them.

Their faces were just magical. They felt special. They felt included. They felt pretty. What a humbling privilege for me.

The youngest of the group is a little two year old girl, and ummmm....well, she is a two year old girl with tons of older siblings. Need I say more? I put her in the smallest shepherd costume we had and she just strutted around like I put a king's robe on her.

Then, after assigning costumes, the children were taken off to practice songs. Two other mom's and I cleaned up the rest of the costumes, organized, hung up hangers, etc. We were all just tingly with warm fuzzies. Suddenly, these special kids, who have lived a whole lifetime in their short years, suddenly see us as friends. The distrust was gone this special morning.

We also listened to the practice. Each one of those kids from this family was singing, with vim and vigor, in their voice. Not just the blank stare that we normally see while singing hymns. It wasn't just feeling special putting on a tinsel laden costume, it was the feeling that they will be included in our production, and they feel special because of it.

In case you can't tell, I am beyond excited to share with you our annual Christmas pageant pictures coming up in a few weeks. I hope you get to see their faces as I saw them yesterday.