The Primary Program is coming up in our ward, so we've spent the past two weeks in the chapel after Sacrament Meeting practicing. Primary is always fun regardless, but it's especially fun to hear the whole big group, some in tune, some horribly out of tune, but all of them very loud.
Being back in Primary has brought back lots of memories of my days in Primary. In particular, seeing all the 4 and 5 year-olds (there are tons, especially compared to the whole senior Primary) has reminded me of me back when I was that age.
Back then, our family didn't go to our regular family ward but instead went to the USU 28th ward. My dad was in the bishopric of that married student ward from the time I was almost three to the time I was almost six, and so for three years we would drive past our regular church building to the one by Willow Park Zoo.
I don't remember much about the first year, but there is a snapshot etched into my brain. There I am, standing in the nursery, surrounded by a few other kids. There were toys and snacks.
And then my memory jumps to a classroom however many months later.
"This is the only true church," my teacher says.
"But what about my grandparents' church?" I ask. "Or the church we used to go to?"
"This is the only true church," I vaguely remember her repeating.
Well, it made sense. I mean, this was the building for the USU 28th ward:
Light colored brick, beautiful white steeple, early 90s architecture . . . it had to be the true church. Much better than our regular building on 100 North that we drove past each time:
(And if you don't think this looks too bad, it's probably because it's been remodeled. It used to have a lot more dark brown to it. Even with the remodel, the windows still aren't all that pretty.)
Or, heaven forbid, the church we would drive past right before we got to ours:
I never liked the rock covered front. It always reminded me of throw up or something. Even though this was an LDS building, there was no way it could be as true as the beautiful USU 28th ward building.
Since it was a married student ward, our whole family was invited to attend. However, since most of the couples were relatively newly married, the kids got sparser as we got older. Some kids would weave in and out for a semester or two, but Leslie and I were the fabric that held the Primary together. We were the Primary.
Little wonder, then, that in later years, I would always be the one to answer questions in Sunday School. When you are the only student, you have no choice but to answer all the questions.
Of course, sometimes there were other students, and they always ruined things. One time a teacher asked what we liked to eat for breakfast. "Coffee cake!" I announced. The other girl in the class looked at me with disdain. "Coffee is bad for you." I tried to explain that it didn't have coffee in it, that you were just supposed to eat it with coffee, and she repeated her mantra, "Coffee is bad for you." I wanted to explain that we weren't the ones drinking coffee, but by then my teacher had moved the lesson along.
Or the time in Sharing Time when we spent the first bit of the lesson talking about teeth. Some boy had something to say about losing teeth or cavities or something like that. I didn't have lost teeth or cavities, but I did have teeth. "I have four sharp teeth!" I told everyone, referring to my canines. The Primary president smiled and said that was great. Later my mom said we weren't really supposed to talk about sharp teeth in Primary. I felt like the Primary president had betrayed my trust telling my mom about conversations in Primary. It wasn't her job to know what we talked about.
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Being back in Primary has brought back lots of memories of my days in Primary. In particular, seeing all the 4 and 5 year-olds (there are tons, especially compared to the whole senior Primary) has reminded me of me back when I was that age.
Back then, our family didn't go to our regular family ward but instead went to the USU 28th ward. My dad was in the bishopric of that married student ward from the time I was almost three to the time I was almost six, and so for three years we would drive past our regular church building to the one by Willow Park Zoo.
I don't remember much about the first year, but there is a snapshot etched into my brain. There I am, standing in the nursery, surrounded by a few other kids. There were toys and snacks.
And then my memory jumps to a classroom however many months later.
"This is the only true church," my teacher says.
"But what about my grandparents' church?" I ask. "Or the church we used to go to?"
"This is the only true church," I vaguely remember her repeating.
Well, it made sense. I mean, this was the building for the USU 28th ward:
Light colored brick, beautiful white steeple, early 90s architecture . . . it had to be the true church. Much better than our regular building on 100 North that we drove past each time:
Or, heaven forbid, the church we would drive past right before we got to ours:
I never liked the rock covered front. It always reminded me of throw up or something. Even though this was an LDS building, there was no way it could be as true as the beautiful USU 28th ward building.
§
Since it was a married student ward, our whole family was invited to attend. However, since most of the couples were relatively newly married, the kids got sparser as we got older. Some kids would weave in and out for a semester or two, but Leslie and I were the fabric that held the Primary together. We were the Primary.
Little wonder, then, that in later years, I would always be the one to answer questions in Sunday School. When you are the only student, you have no choice but to answer all the questions.
Of course, sometimes there were other students, and they always ruined things. One time a teacher asked what we liked to eat for breakfast. "Coffee cake!" I announced. The other girl in the class looked at me with disdain. "Coffee is bad for you." I tried to explain that it didn't have coffee in it, that you were just supposed to eat it with coffee, and she repeated her mantra, "Coffee is bad for you." I wanted to explain that we weren't the ones drinking coffee, but by then my teacher had moved the lesson along.
Or the time in Sharing Time when we spent the first bit of the lesson talking about teeth. Some boy had something to say about losing teeth or cavities or something like that. I didn't have lost teeth or cavities, but I did have teeth. "I have four sharp teeth!" I told everyone, referring to my canines. The Primary president smiled and said that was great. Later my mom said we weren't really supposed to talk about sharp teeth in Primary. I felt like the Primary president had betrayed my trust telling my mom about conversations in Primary. It wasn't her job to know what we talked about.
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Music was a very big deal in Primary. I think most of the pioneer songs we learned were during the summer we spent in La Canada when I was five, but we canvassed basically every other section of the Children's songbook. When you have two or three little girls who like to sing, you can get through a lot of songs. And sometimes they even let us play the piano for the songs. Leslie learned "Reverence is Love" and we all got to sing it.
Occasionally, our family would do musical numbers in Sacrament Meeting, songs like "A Child's Prayer" or "Mother Tell me the Story." We would all fight to be the one in front of the microphone, not believing my parents that the mic would pick up the sound even if we weren't breathing into it. No stage fright issues from us, that's for sure.
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By the time my dad was released from the bishopric, Leslie, Kaylie, and I were the only kids in Primary. Our chorister Sister Moore was so sad to see us go. "We won't have anyone to sing to," she said. "Just ghosts." The idea of ghost Primary kids was so sad, and even a little scary. The ghosts wouldn't hurt her, would they? It didn't occur to me that they would probably release her and disband the Primary. That's even sadder than ghosts.
And so, one week, we only drove a couple blocks rather than a couple miles, back to our church with ugly orange fabric on the pews and 70s-style decorations. After Sacrament Meeting, I went to my class for the first time. It was full of neighbors and friends who I knew from school and play, but it was a little awkward seeing them at church where I'd never really been before. The lesson was on being a good friend, and there was some role-playing. I got to act out the part of the new person, and other people acted out the part of being nice. Even though we were just pretending, it felt so real, and I suddenly felt so welcome there.
Ugly building or not, I guess the church was true here, too.
And so, one week, we only drove a couple blocks rather than a couple miles, back to our church with ugly orange fabric on the pews and 70s-style decorations. After Sacrament Meeting, I went to my class for the first time. It was full of neighbors and friends who I knew from school and play, but it was a little awkward seeing them at church where I'd never really been before. The lesson was on being a good friend, and there was some role-playing. I got to act out the part of the new person, and other people acted out the part of being nice. Even though we were just pretending, it felt so real, and I suddenly felt so welcome there.
Ugly building or not, I guess the church was true here, too.
Oh, that made me laugh! From the "throw-up" rock on that church (which Mike and I attended for a brief time, and I liked that building about as much as you did), to the Ghosts of Primaries Past, you had me smiling. One of my favorite memories of that time in Primary was hearing Leslie share her favorite scripture with us. With perfect solemnity, she shared the "Tight Like Unto a Dish" verse about the Jaredite's vessels, declaring it to be the most meaningful scripture she knew. Each time we come to it in our Book of Mormon reading, we try to read it with equal solemnity, in her honor. You sisters were absolutely adorable and I hope you are still tight, like unto a dish, in your devotion to one another.
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