Raising Kid's God's Way

Raising Kids God’s Way
My hands were coated in a thin layer of sparkling red glitter. The light provided by the three dim desk lamps, which sat in various flat surfaces throughout the small room, reflected off of each metallic particle.
Sean sat to my right, his hands equally covered in glitter. His thin, lanky form overtaking the small plastic chairs that each of us sat in. Arranged on the floor in front of us sat twelve small hunched figures, their heads bowed over each of their individual projects. Today’s assignment; Create your own Christmas ornament.
At eleven years old I was the eldest member of the small First Reformed Presbyterian Church youth group. Every Wednesday the church sponsored a class called “Raising Kids God’s Way” for parents. I had the responsibility to look after each of the younger children as their parents studied. Sean, being only a few months younger than me, was my second in command.
This day, for a change, the kids were quiet. This left both Sean and I to play thumb wars, which seemed immensely more fun now that both of our hands were covered in the shining glitter used for the Christmas ornaments. As we played we gossiped quietly about the parents who sat in another room, not to far away from the preacher’s office that we were closed up in.
“What do ya’ think they’re talking bout,’” he whispered, careful to keep his voice down low, so as to not disrupt the hard at work children in front of us. His thumb wiggled from underneath mine as I trapped him with my quick digit.
“I don’t know. My parents say it’s kinda’ boring.”
“Probably is, I can’t hear them laughing.” His thumb was free now and we were both trying to get the upper hand. After one miscalculated move on my part he slammed his glittering thumb down on to mine and grinned wickedly.
I strained my ears, trying to pick up even the smallest sound through the thick closed door that separated the children from the parents, and heard nothing. Quickly I withdrew my thumb from underneath his and in one quick motion I was back on top where I had been.
“I can’t hear them either.” Sean was struggling to remove his digit from underneath mine but I pressed harder down on his, and he stayed where he was.
“How much longer do we have,” Sean asked, fidgeting a little in the small orange chair that seemed way to tiny for us both, and wiggling his thumb until finally I eased up.
“About ten minutes,” I replied, after glancing at the large clock that hung on the paneled walls. Sean was trying to pin me again but I had so far thwarted him.
“Wanna’ go to the storage room again after this?” His thumb slammed down on mine trapping me securely between his hand and digit.
“Yeah sure,” I smiled, my heart speeding up at the thought of exploring the dim musty room. My thoughts were interrupted as Kaylie, the preacher’s middle child, stood up and approached me. Sean and I let go of each others battle worn fingers quickly.
“Miss Stacy, I need to go pee pee.”
“Can you wait Kaylie, we only have ten minutes left?”
She responded by crossing her legs, and bouncing up and down, her little brows scrunched together.
“But I gotta’ go now,” she cried her voice rising with each syllable.
“Ok, fine lets go.” I rose from my uncomfortable chair and held out my sparkling red hand. She placed her green shining palm into mine.
“Be right back,” I told Sean, who was rubbing his hands together causing a miniature rainfall of red glitter to emanate from his moving digits.
I pushed the heavy door open slowly trying not to make too much sound, and distract the hard at work individuals both within and outside the office. We walked quietly by the studying adults whose heads all seemed to swing in our direction despite the lack of noise that we created. Their eyes were glued to our glittering hands, their faces envious. At eleven years old I believed they wanted to sit down their boring workbooks, and to come and play. As an adult I still believe this.
I led Kaylie quickly to the women’s restroom, and she hurriedly rushed into the only stall. The bathroom was small and cramped. Half of the small room was taken up by a large wooden partition that housed a crooked swinging door. This partition separated the toilet from the sink area. The countertop and the two sinks were a marble black color with gold flakes thrown in. On top of the counter were two liquid soap dispensers, a roll of paper towels, and an off brand box of tissues. Nestled at the junction between the sinks and the partition was one small trash can that was brimming with crumpled up paper towels and used tissues.
My gaze was traveling around the bland bathroom, my eyes seeking something interesting to look at while I waited for Kaylie, when I heard them.
Class must have been dismissed early, I thought, as the sound of folding chairs scraping along a hard wooden floor wafted in from the open hallway that led to the meeting area and preacher’s office.
“Hurry up Kaylie. The class is over.” I tapped my foot impatiently along the cracked, dirty tiles of the bathroom floor. After each class session the parents reunited with their children in the office and thirty to forty five minutes of visiting would ensue. The faster I got back to the office, the more time Sean and I would have to play hide and seek or whatever other fun games we thought up to do in our favorite hangout.
Kaylie quickly finished in the bathroom, and after a thorough hand scrubbing on both of our parts (I had to get rid of the glitter) we made our way back towards the office.
Class had indeed finished early, and a large crowd of parents waited outside the office door ready to collect their children. My parents were standing on the outskirts of the large group talking with the preacher and his wife, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Fishburn, Sean’s parents.
I approached the group of adults with a smile and handed Kaylie over to Mrs. McCracken, the preacher’s wife and Kaylie’s mom.
“Mom, me and Sean are gonna’ go play for a while ok.”
“That’s fine honey just be back in about thirty minutes.”
“Ok” I sighed, exasperated at the time limit set upon me.
I pushed my way into the crowded office muttering an “Excuse me” or “Pardon me” every time I stepped on a foot or pushed a little too much. Sean was in the corner of the office his back to the wall, seemingly staying out of the way.
“Come on Sean let’s go.” I beckoned him forward with a wave of my hand. He pushed off the wall and with his head down he weaved his way through the crowded room until he was in front of me. With me leading the way we barreled the last few feet out of the office until finally we hit open space. With no one in front of us we ran down the hallway until we hit the exit door, but just before exiting the building we hung a quick left and went through the closed door that was the entrance to the storage room.

****
I held my hand in front of my face and could not see it.
“Sean where is that Light switch again?” I groped around the dusty wall to my right feeling for the light switch.
“Hold on I almost got it, Ok… there.” One Dim dusty light bulb that hung from a chain flickered on and illuminated as best it could the large storage room.
A vacuum cleaner sat next to the wall closest to the door, as well as a mop and bucket. Large containers of bleach and pinesol sat on the floor next to the vacuum. Boxes of various holiday decorations were piled on either side of the doorway outlining a small narrow path to walk down.
Sean and I walked further into the room being careful to check where we stepped, since various wires and extension cords seemed to be coiled up on the floor in snakelike piles throughout the room.
“What do ya’ wanna’ do,” Sean asked, as he stepped over one particularly large coil of miniature Christmas lights.
“um,” I tapped my finger along my chin like people do on T.V. when they are thinking. “Let’s play hide and seek.”
“Ok.” Sean was eager to play this particular game since it seemed to be both of our favorites.
“You’re it.” I pointed at him.
“nuh’ ugh’, I was it last time.”
“No you weren’t I was.”
After a quick argument it was decided that, indeed I was “It” last time, and therefore it was Sean’s turn to be “It” this time.
“Count from fifty,” I told him, eager to find my hiding spot.
“Fine,” Sean sighed, turning his back on me and facing the closed storage room door. “Fifty… forty nine… forty eight…”
I rushed away from him. Jumping over flattened card board boxes, and more coils of extension cords. I stumbled over a broken broom handle, but caught my balance quickly and continued into the room. The further away from the hanging dim light bulb I got the harder it became to see.
“Thirty six… thirty five.”
I rushed toward a dark corner of the storage room my hands thrust in front of me, feeling for any dusty boxes that might lay in my way. I maneuvered around a particularly tall stack of boxes and almost stumbled into a pit.
“Fifteen… fourteen.”
It wasn’t actually a pit. It was a baptism pool that had been long ago drained. There were shallow steps leading down into the pool area, and a drain sat in the middle of that. The tub itself seemed to be made of marble. Light was shining from beneath the wall that sat opposite the backdrop of the large tub, this small amount of light reflected off the whiteness of the marble and illuminated the backdrop where a mural had been painted on the white surface. The mural was of a river, and a meadow, with trees scattered along the shoreline. A man in a white robe was wading in the river and a line of people were standing in front of him. I knew what this was. I was eleven and I knew all about baptism, and Jesus, and all that, but I had never seen a baptism pool before. I learned later that Presbyterians don’t baptize in a pool like the one I found.
I took the two steps carefully down into the empty pool area and sat down, my back resting against the cool marble.
“Two…one. Ready or not here I come.”
I didn’t want to wait for Sean to find me. I wanted to show him my discovery.
“Sean I’m over here, come see what I found.”
“Stacy,” Sean whined “It’s no fun if you tell me where you are.”
“Just come here Sean, trust me its cool.”
After a few seconds of muffled footsteps and one loud shout, he had apparently found the same broken broomstick handle I had, Sean made his way to the baptism pool.
“Wow,” he exclaimed taking in the same view I had a few moments ago.
“Isn’t this cool,” I chattered excitedly as Sean took the two steps down into the sunken pool area, and sat down next to me.
“Yeah, I can’t believe we didn’t find this thing last time.”
“It was behind those boxes.”
“Yeah,” Sean sighed while looking around.
Suddenly it felt really uncomfortable in the silence that surrounded us. Sean wasn’t saying anything and neither was I. I could feel the heat from his body along the side of my own. I could smell the Cheetos and brownies he had for a snack earlier in the night. I could also hear the quickening in his breath and in my own. Eventually Sean broke the silence with a quick laugh.
“Wanna’ play thumb wars again.” He laughed while extending his hand out towards mine and shifting so we faced each other.
“Sure” I giggled placing my hand in his, but instead of taking the usual Thumb wars position that I was used to, Sean intertwined his fingers with mine. A roaring seemed to go through my head. I could no longer hear our individual quickened breaths which had no doubt sped up. I looked up at Sean and giggled again, and he laughed as well. We sat like that for a few more seconds, then the scraping of the storage room door along the wooden floor alerted us, and we let go of each other quickly.
“Stacy, Sean, are you back here?” It was the voice of the preacher, Mr. McCracken.
“Yeah,” we both said at the same time, our voices a bit too high.
“Come on out. Your parents are leaving.” Mr. McCracken’s voice was kind but stern.
Sean and I rose to our feet, and climbed up out of the baptism pool quickly. With the storage room door open and the light from the hallway shining through it was easier to make our way out of the cluttered room. Mr. McCracken stood in the doorway his silhouette outlined by the light shinning from the hallway.
“You two shouldn’t be in here alone.”
“Why,” I asked feeling a bit defiant.
“Because it’s not right,” was Mr. McCracken’s response.
The preacher led the way out of the storage room and I hung my head, my eyes watching my feet as I walked down the brightly lit hallway in complete darkness.