This past weekend, my youngest sister and I helped my other sister teach her Sunday School class of four- and five-year-olds. There was only one little kid in there – a little boy named Will – and he talks like a grown-up. She tells us all the time how smart all the kids in there are and how they retain everything they talk about in the Sunday School class, sometimes even bringing part of the previous week’s lesson into the activity they do during a story.
Long story short, this week they were supposed to make stars, to symbolize what the wise men saw on the night Jesus was born. It was stars cut out of cardstock, covered in glitter and hung up by a string. Will made his and we passed him upstairs when he was talking to his mom as we were leaving church.
Will’s mom: “You made a star? Is it to hang on our tree?”
Will: “No, it’s for the Wise Men to follow!”
On account of... 