I forgot about this experience until I was preparing my Sunday School lesson, and I decided I’d write about it.
First, here is the background: My Sunday school class last year contained four very quiet 13-year-old girls and one very quiet 13-year-old boy. They were a great class — they knew the answers or at least tried to participate, quietly and submissively. They all turned 14 and so went to a new teacher at the beginning of the year.
This year, I have three very talkative 12-year-old girls and one quiet 12-year-old boy. Actually, only one of the girls is very talkative (I’ll call her Sarah) — the others just feed off of her. The girls tend to whisper to each other and distract the others from the lesson. Sarah tries to think of off-the-wall questions to stump me as I try to teach. Sometimes the questions are very good — but often they seem so off subject it’s hard to get momentum back for the lesson I’ve prepared.
Four weeks ago, during my lesson about the Atonement, I was feeling particularly overwhelmed by the distracted class and the super-important subject matter. (I mentioned I felt overwhelmed trying to teach the Atonement in 30 minutes to begin with.) Sarah kept whispering and giggling with another girl, whom I’ll call Mary. (They were sniffing their marking pencils which apparently had scents: “They’re Smencils,” I was told.)
Anyway, I was trying to talk above their whispers so the other two class members could learn something. I mean, I was talking about the Atonement; the least the girls could do was listen. But I was not having any luck. I was distracted and the other girl and boy kept glancing at Sarah and Mary.
“OK, listen,” I finally said, stopping mid-sentence. “I’m giving the most important lesson in the book right now. Can I tell you why this is the most important lesson?”
The two girls stopped giggling and looked up. I had the attention of the whole room.
“I’m talking about our Savior Jesus Christ today. The only way we can return to our Heavenly Father is through Jesus Christ and His Atonement. The purpose of our Heavenly Father, His entire work and glory, is to “bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” That includes you. You are His work and His glory! Every other lesson in this manual and every lesson you will ever receive in the church goes back to the Savior. I’m talking about Him today. I need you to listen, because I know this is true and I know this is very important.”
The room was silent and the spirit was so strong I felt like crying (and I don’t usually cry when I feel the spirit). The room stayed quiet as I continued the lesson. The class participated. We watched the movie “The Mediator” and by the end the two girls were whispering again, but this time they were whispering about the video. (“No, I think the friend represents Jesus.”)
They were back to whispering a little by the end of the class, and the cloud of spirit had subsided a little by then, but I was amazed by the power bearing my testimony had in that moment. I know it made a difference to the class.
After the warning bell rang, I still had more than 10 minutes of material left — I know we wouldn’t get to it.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. We won’t get to the whole lesson today,” I said as I bore my testimony at the end of class.
“Well, will you finish this lesson next week?” Sarah asked.
I was flabbergasted. Most weeks, I’m not sure she’s listening at all.
I explained that I was going out of town, but I’d make sure we talk about what’s most important again. For this reason alone, I intend to go back and reemphasize some of the material from that lesson. Sarah, the talkative one, wants me to finish the most important lesson in the book. She was listening!




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