I got to share my testimony today of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ with the three-to-four-year-olds I teach in church. Usually, teaching children of this age is a bit like herding kittens. If you're entertaining enough and bounce around enough, you'll catch and keep their eye. If you sit still for any length of time, you've lost them. They're off to bat at something more interesting. Today, I talked about one of the topics they know and love most of all: Jesus. They know His picture as a baby or as a big person. They love to talk about or act out the Christmas story. Everything beyond that gets a little hazy.
But then I pulled out a picture of my baby and told them that because Jesus suffered and died for us, he paid the price for our sins. He suffered all our pains, so He would understand them and comfort us when we hurt. He overcame death, so I can hold my baby again. We can have our families forever because of the atonement. They were transfixed, but their reaction went beyond that. I cried, so they cried tears of empathy. Their spirits listened and understood my pain and my joy. Shortly after, they were back to acting like kittens again. By the end of the class, when I wasn't telling them stories anymore and after they were done with their snacks and structured games, they were tackling each other and playing loudly like any good kittens [or small children] would. But for that moment, we all understood and felt the power of the Spirit, confirming the truth of my words. I will ever cherish the beauty and strength of that moment.
