My name is Samantha, in case you haven’t guessed. My mom named me after some t.v. character she saw when she was a little girl. Everybody calls me Sammy.
I guess you’re wondering what we were doing praying for God to send us a teacher. It went like this: Ms. Beth just finished telling us that she was stepping down. She felt like we needed someone nearer our age, with more energy, you know.
She was a sweet lady and I hated to see her leave, but the others were pretty distraught; the girls crying and hugging her neck and the guys hanging back and looking sorta glum. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but I think a lot of it was guilt.
From what I had seen during my few months, the group did pretty much what they pleased. I’m sure we were a pretty discouraging bunch to deal with.
So afterward, we sat around wondering what would happen next.
“I think we should pray,” said Chad; at least I think it was Chad, I hadn’t learned to tell him and Brad apart yet. Everybody else nodded. We were all silent for several seconds.
“Who’s going to start?”
“You were the one who thought of it,” said Jimmy. If we had had a preacher’s kid, Jimmy would have been it. His dad was only a deacon but Jim was pretty rowdy nontheless. The rest of us looked at Chad expectantly.
“Okay.” He ducked his head and began. “Lord, you know Ms. Beth is leaving and we ask for you to bless her and restore her good health. Lord, we also ask that you forgive us because we know we were not always the best bunch that we could have been to her. But we mostly pray, God, that you bring us a good teacher, one that knows a lot about the Bible, but who is interesting and everything and help us to be better students. Amen.”
Chad looked up.
“Oh, uh did anybody else want to pray?”
“No, you did just fine,” Lizzie assured him. We all agreed that it was a good prayer and also that we really would try harder if God would only send us someone not boring but at least a little bit fun.
I myself didn’t have any problems having my dad as a teacher like some people might have with their dads. I mean like I said before he was the best storyteller ever, plus sometimes he was just as goofy as one of us. None of my friends knew that, though. We were fairly new and though my dad had made friends with all the grown-ups, these guys really didn’t know him. Being the new kid, I just kept quiet and waited to see what would happen.