Approximately fifteen years ago, on a bright sunny spring Sunday morning, I sat dressed in frills, listening to my Sunday School teacher explain the concept of faith.
"Faith is like a little seed," she said to the class. "If planted, it will grow!"
After the lesson was completely, our handout for the day was a small potted flower. No bigger than a couple inches.
"Remember, like this flower grows, your faith can grow too!" the teacher recited, handing every child a plant.
To say I worked really hard to keep the little plant alive might be an exaggeration. I am sure my mother did all the work at the beginning. But, boy, did it ever pay off.
That small scrubby little plant is now a HUGE bush in my mother's yard. Prolific doesn't even begin to describe this thing. Every year, Mom thins it down, moving a section or two to new spots in the yard. And every stinking section of that thing lives and grows. No, no... EXPLODES. Pretty much the coolest Sunday School handout ever.
"Faith is like a little seed," she said to the class. "If planted, it will grow!"
After the lesson was completely, our handout for the day was a small potted flower. No bigger than a couple inches.
"Remember, like this flower grows, your faith can grow too!" the teacher recited, handing every child a plant.
To say I worked really hard to keep the little plant alive might be an exaggeration. I am sure my mother did all the work at the beginning. But, boy, did it ever pay off.
That small scrubby little plant is now a HUGE bush in my mother's yard. Prolific doesn't even begin to describe this thing. Every year, Mom thins it down, moving a section or two to new spots in the yard. And every stinking section of that thing lives and grows. No, no... EXPLODES. Pretty much the coolest Sunday School handout ever.
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