The Prodigal Preschooler
31 “His father said to him, ‘Look, dear son, you have
always stayed by me, and everything I have is yours. 32 We
had to celebrate this happy day. For your brother was dead
and has come back to life! He was lost, but now he is found!â
€™â€� Luke 15:31-32
Early in December, little Jenny’s parents made the
decision to withdraw her from the preschool class she
had attended since August. They had found a less
expensive program housed in a brand-new facility,
flanked by a fabulous playground and staffed by a young
31 “His father said to him, ‘Look, dear son, you have
always stayed by me, and everything I have is yours. 32 We
had to celebrate this happy day. For your brother was dead
and has come back to life! He was lost, but now he is found!â
€™â€� Luke 15:31-32
Early in December, little Jenny’s parents made the
decision to withdraw her from the preschool class she
had attended since August. They had found a less
expensive program housed in a brand-new facility,
flanked by a fabulous playground and staffed by a young
teaching staff filled with energy and enthusiasm. Jenny’s mom explained to the
teacher that they were so sorry to leave, that they really loved her and the schoolâ
€™s program, but the new situation would really ease their financial crunch and the
school was less of a drive and the new class had more girls for Jenny to play with and
so on. So, farewell gifts were exchanged, hugs were hugged all around and final
goodbyes were spoken. With a final wave over her shoulder, Jenny was gone.
As she was driven away, a collective sigh was sighed by the preschool staff, the
parents of children in her class and even by the children themselves. A sigh, not of
sadness, but of relief. You see, Jenny was one of those kids. When frustrated, she
hit, at circle time she wiggled and talked, on the playground she pushed and tattled
and at snack time she had the manners of a wild beast. Whew! Classroom life would
be a breeze without her!
And it was. Circle time was quieter, the playground was more peaceful and snack
time was a breeze. There was no Jenny to interrupt, to hit, to call names, to cause
havoc. And then came the phone call. Mid-way through January, Jenny’s mom
called the old school in tears, asking to return. The teachers in the new school were
harsh with her little girl and there were no prayers, no Bible songs, no stories about
Jesus. Some of the parents were unkind and called Jenny unmanageable. And Jenny
was begging for her old teachers, fussing and balking while getting ready for school
each day.
The next Monday, the prodigal preschooler returned. The teachers greeted her with
sincere joy that confused the parents and children who had remained in the class,
despite the lure of the new, cheaper program. How could they be so glad to see her
when she talked during prayers, spilled food at snack and was sometimes aggressive
with her classmates? What about the other children, the ones whose parents were not
tempted away by the new center? Didn’t they deserve a peaceful classroom,
especially since they remained faithful? When asked to explain their open-arms
attitude, one of the teachers said, “Yes, Jenny takes a little extra effort, but I look
at it this way: Jenny needs us and we need her. We celebrate the continued presence
of your children in our class, but Jenny was lost to us for a little while, and now she is
back and we can again minister to her. We are blessed by the opportunity to reach
out to Jenny, even though it was, admittedly, easier during her time away.�
Do you have a Jenny in your classroom? Do you dread the sound of her voice, the
clumping of her footsteps? How would you feel if that child left the program and
after three weeks of peace, your director tells you that she will be returning to your
class? Do you cherish the opportunity to reach out to one of those less than perfectly
behaved little ones? When the prodigal appears on the horizon, do you cringe or
crow? Helping the ones who remained enrolled accept the re-entry of a “strayâ
€�, especially one who is considered troublesome, is an opportunity to teach by
example Christian forgiveness and love. We are all prodigals, yet our heavenly
Father welcomes us back to Him with joy every time we return to Him. Since such
love and forgiveness is ours, despite our sins, we should not only feel compelled to
extend that love to others but feel blessed to have the opportunity to share such
forgiving love, especially with the little children who are so precious to our savior,
Jesus Christ.
Welcome back, Jenny!
© 2008 Elizabeth Williams
teacher that they were so sorry to leave, that they really loved her and the schoolâ
€™s program, but the new situation would really ease their financial crunch and the
school was less of a drive and the new class had more girls for Jenny to play with and
so on. So, farewell gifts were exchanged, hugs were hugged all around and final
goodbyes were spoken. With a final wave over her shoulder, Jenny was gone.
As she was driven away, a collective sigh was sighed by the preschool staff, the
parents of children in her class and even by the children themselves. A sigh, not of
sadness, but of relief. You see, Jenny was one of those kids. When frustrated, she
hit, at circle time she wiggled and talked, on the playground she pushed and tattled
and at snack time she had the manners of a wild beast. Whew! Classroom life would
be a breeze without her!
And it was. Circle time was quieter, the playground was more peaceful and snack
time was a breeze. There was no Jenny to interrupt, to hit, to call names, to cause
havoc. And then came the phone call. Mid-way through January, Jenny’s mom
called the old school in tears, asking to return. The teachers in the new school were
harsh with her little girl and there were no prayers, no Bible songs, no stories about
Jesus. Some of the parents were unkind and called Jenny unmanageable. And Jenny
was begging for her old teachers, fussing and balking while getting ready for school
each day.
The next Monday, the prodigal preschooler returned. The teachers greeted her with
sincere joy that confused the parents and children who had remained in the class,
despite the lure of the new, cheaper program. How could they be so glad to see her
when she talked during prayers, spilled food at snack and was sometimes aggressive
with her classmates? What about the other children, the ones whose parents were not
tempted away by the new center? Didn’t they deserve a peaceful classroom,
especially since they remained faithful? When asked to explain their open-arms
attitude, one of the teachers said, “Yes, Jenny takes a little extra effort, but I look
at it this way: Jenny needs us and we need her. We celebrate the continued presence
of your children in our class, but Jenny was lost to us for a little while, and now she is
back and we can again minister to her. We are blessed by the opportunity to reach
out to Jenny, even though it was, admittedly, easier during her time away.�
Do you have a Jenny in your classroom? Do you dread the sound of her voice, the
clumping of her footsteps? How would you feel if that child left the program and
after three weeks of peace, your director tells you that she will be returning to your
class? Do you cherish the opportunity to reach out to one of those less than perfectly
behaved little ones? When the prodigal appears on the horizon, do you cringe or
crow? Helping the ones who remained enrolled accept the re-entry of a “strayâ
€�, especially one who is considered troublesome, is an opportunity to teach by
example Christian forgiveness and love. We are all prodigals, yet our heavenly
Father welcomes us back to Him with joy every time we return to Him. Since such
love and forgiveness is ours, despite our sins, we should not only feel compelled to
extend that love to others but feel blessed to have the opportunity to share such
forgiving love, especially with the little children who are so precious to our savior,
Jesus Christ.
Welcome back, Jenny!
© 2008 Elizabeth Williams
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