Of sermons and children

There are perils involved with giving a children's sermon. Most of the time, there is nothing out of the ordinary. And then there are moments like yesterday's.

I was talking about memorizing things - the Creed, prayers, and scripture - in particular psalms. I mentioned the canon which says that bishops should know the psalms by heart. This followed:

Me: "I am not close to knowing all the psalms by heart, so I am not in danger of becoming a bishop. Besides, that would also require sending my wife to a monastery and I don't think either of us is quite ready for that."

Lucia, from right in front of me: "I am."

The end.

Orchestra

Tonight was the first orchestra experience in an indoor setting for our two oldest. I was fairly sure Teddy would be okay, whether or not he liked the music (and he was okay behavior-wise, though he was, perhaps due to general sleepiness, rather nonplussed about the event). I was a bit worried about Lucia, being only four and sitting through a full concert. Turns out I needn't have worried.

She started out a bit hesitant and she did spend a good chunk of the concert with hands by her ears, being worried about the loud ("big") parts. But as soon as the first half ended, she clapped with all the enthusiasm she could muster. She was a bit more restless during the second half, and the concert ended with both her and Teddy on my lap (thank goodness they're small). Still, the walk back to the car was an almost uninterrupted whirlwind about "the singers," and the "big girl with the violin," and "why did they stop," and wanting to sing with them, and liking the small (i.e. quiet) parts, and when will she be big, and "when will the singers come back?"

It might be worth mentioning that the walk took seven minutes with her in my arms on the way there. It took about fifteen on the way back and I'm not sure she even quite realized that she had forgotten to ask to be picked up.

 Score one for classical music and one for a charmingly-elated little girl.