Teacher, Do You Love Me?

 

 

 

TEACHER, GO YOU LOVE ME?

 

 

 

      A number of years ago a little nine-year-old boy named Mark moved into the ward with his parents.   He started coming to primary.    It wasn’t long, however, until a serious problem had developed.   Mark disrupted his class so much that no teacher would stay with the class more than a few weeks.

After a few months of frustration, the Primary president prayed about the matter and felt impressed to ask the bishop for a release so she could teach Mark’s class.   Together they prayed and fasted, and then the bishop released her to be the teacher of the class Mark was in.

Sister Olsen was a very experienced, capable teacher, and she entered Mark’s class with considerable preparation and prayer.  But within minutes, the generally well-behaved children were whistling, jumping over chairs, kicking, spitting—doing everything Mark was doing.

When she went home that night, she told her husband that she had made a mistake.   She couldn’t handle the class.   If it kept up, she, too, would have to quit.   Her husband listened to her tale, then challenged her to try a little harder.

Weeks went by, some better than others.   At times Sister Olsen felt encouraged when she could give part of a lesson before Mark ruined it.

Then one day, at the end of a lesson on love, she told each child that Heavenly Father loved him and that she did too, putting her hand on each small head.   But Mark would have none of it.    He jumped up screaming, “No you don’t! You don’t love me! Nobody does!” Then he ran from the room.    She managed to hold together until all the children had left; then she sat down and cried.    She knew deep down that she didn’t love Mark. She tolerated him, but feelings of love had never really grown.

She began anew.   She worked and prayed and fasted some more.

She talked to Mark after Primary one day.  “I love you, Mark.   You don’t have to love me, but I love you very much.”    He didn’t say anything, but walked away.          She wrote a special letter telling his parents some of the things she liked about him.    She took pictures of all the children in class and put them on a poster with a brief comment about each child written below each picture.   She asked Mark to help her return supplies to the library. She sent him a birthday card, signed with her name and the words “Mark, I love you.” She arranged to be where he would be and said hello and visited with him briefly.   She did everything she could to let him know she loved him.

The love she had developed for Mark started to make a difference.   Eventually things changed in class. He was her ideal student.

Then one spring evening Mark came running to her home and flew into her arms sobbing, “Oh, teacher! My folks are moving and they say I have to go too!   What am I going to do?   Who will love me now?”

She waited until his sobs died down.   Then she took his tear-stained face in her hands and said, “Mark, I want you to always remember one thing. Heavenly Father loves you.   And no matter where you go, he will always love you, and there will be a Primary teacher waiting who will love you just as I do.”

Mark did move.  Three years later the teacher answered the telephone and heard a voice on the other end say, “Teacher, do you love me?” It was Mark.   As the years passed, the bond between Mark and Sister Olsen deepened.   And every Mother’s Day Sister Olsen receives a card on which Mark has written, “Teacher, do you love me?”  ( Taken from the March 1986 Ensign.)

 

     The Following is from the LDS Children’s Hymnbook:
 

 Teacher, do you love me?

 

Teacher, will you care for me?

 

Even if I turn away, or disobey, or go astray,

 

Then will you love me still?

 

 

Oh yes, my child, I love you.

 

My child, I’ll always care for you.

 

And with the Savior as our guide,

 

I’ll share the light I feel inside,

 

And you will feel his love for you.

 

 

Teacher, will you teach me?

 

Teacher, help me choose the right.

 

When I do not understand the Lord’s command,

 

Please take my hand

 

And lead me safely with his light.

 

 

Oh, yes, my child, I’ll teach you.

 

My child, I’ll help you choose the right.

 

And when you do not understand

 

The Lord’s command, I’ll take your hand,

 

And he will lead us with his light.

 

         The following is from the conference talk, “Help Them on Their Way Home” by Henry B. Eyring:

 “We help God’s children best by providing ways to build faith in Jesus Christ and His restored gospel when they are young.

I speak today of young people already within His true Church and so are started on the strait and narrow way to return to their heavenly home.   He wants them to gain early the spiritual strength to stay on the path. And He needs our help to get them back to the path quickly should they begin to wander and then we must help rekindle that faith quickly before it dims.

Foreseeing the needs of His children, a loving Heavenly Father placed directions and rescuers along their way.   He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to make safe passage possible and visible.   He called as His prophet in these times President Thomas S. Monson.   Since his youth President Monson has taught not only how to stay on the path but also how to rescue those who have been led away into sorrow.

Many bishops in the Church are inspired to call the strongest people in the ward to serve individual children in the Primary.   They realize that if the children are strengthened with faith and testimony, they will be less likely to need rescue as teenagers.   They realize that a strong spiritual foundation can make the difference for a lifetime.

So you and I can expect a nearly continuous opportunity to help travelers among God’s children.   The Savior told us why that would be so when He described the perilous journey home for all of God’s spirit children through the mists which sin and Satan create.” 

Brothers and sisters, primary  is a place very close to my heart.  Our children are most precious.  They bring us joy, make us laugh, remind us the pleasure of simple things, they refresh us, they touch our souls with their purity, they teach us how to love and reopen our eyes with their innocence.  I wish they came with a stamp on their foreheads that reads “handle with care.”   But they don’t, so we must always remember that they are tender and fragile.

        Mosiah 3:19 reads, “For the natural man is an enemy of God, ahd has been from the fall of Adam, and will be forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.”  When Jesus appeared to Nephites, he was moved with compassion as he beckoned to his people in 3 Nephi Chapter 17, starting with verse 23, “Behold your little ones.  And as they looked to behold they cast their eyes towards heaven and they saw the heavens open, and they saw angels descending out of heaven as if were in the midst of fire; and they came down and encircled those little ones about and they were encircled about with fire; and the angels did minister unto them.”

Twenty-three years ago I was asked to give a sacrament talk about primary.  I searched for a verse or poem that would express my feelings about the children but could not find one, and so I penned the following:
 

                            PRIMARY GUEST
 

As I hurried to primary one Sabbath day,

 

I took a moment to stop and pray.

 

“Father, thy will be done

 

To inspire and teach thy little ones.”

 

And then, as I opened the primary door

 

The room seemed brighter than ever before.

 

I gazed upon the Sunbeams, Merrie Miss, the Stars,

 

The Blazers, Valiants and CTR’s.

 
 

Their faces were shining, their eyes were bright.

 

Yet, it didn’t explain that brightness of light.

 

I looked upon the children once more,

 

And there sat a child I’d not seen before.

 
 

He was a humble child—his countenance gleamed!

 

I wondered if he was the source of that brilliant bright 

             beam.

 

The children sang, their voices ringing;

 

I thought I could hear angels singing.

 
 

We moved into our classroom, then

 

And began to surround our newfound friend.

 

As I turned to the lesson, chapter three,

 

This precious boy inquired of me.

 

May I take a few moments to speak to you?

 

I’m doing what my Father has sent me to do.

 

 

The words he spoke were so wise and so pure

 

We learned more that day than ever before.

 

He taught of the things that would lead us to heaven.

 

Things far beyond a boy of eleven.

 

I began to wonder, could this really be?

 

Then I heard a voice say “yes” to me.

 

You have been taught by the Christ Child today.

 

As I looked up, he smiled, and then vanished away.

 

--Donna Masten

 

       Brothers and sisters, it has been said that, “A teacher affects eternity, she never knows where her influence stops.”   Can you just imagine having the child Jesus among your students?   I would like to think that every child deserves that same consideration and if we let them, they will teach us.

I feel it a privilege to work with two stalwart and committed women, Sister Newton and Sister Lee.   Together, as a presidency, we want the very best for our primary children.  We love them and we will serve them. 

We want our teachers to know just how important they are to the children in their charge.  The children may not be able to yet express in words what you mean to them but you are special in their world.

        You are teacher, exemplar.  They watch everything you do and hear what you say.   They notice what you are wearing and even what color finger nail polish you may have on.  They worry about you when they don’t see you on Sunday.  They know you care about their boos  boos and new shoes.  If you take time to listen, they will tell you stories and share their dreams.  They will color special pictures for you to hang on your refrigerator.  THEY LOVE YOU.  Teachers, do you love them?