I recently completed my second year of teaching the middle school Sunday school class at my church.

As one who has periodically thought about being a schoolteacher since I was in college more than 20 years ago but has never received the opportunity, I have found teaching Sunday school to be quite rewarding— and humbling.

I say humbling because I have found I know much less than I thought. The students, on the other hand, seem to know more. Some of the youngsters are particularly bright and weekly ask me hard questions, such as where God came from, or whether Noah¹s ark became a little smelly after more than 40 days.

About the only real insight I have shown is in bringing a bag of doughnuts to class each week. I know that can serve as a motivation to get them to come.

My wife recently sat in on my class and remarked that my strong suit— and, in my opinion, probably only teaching gift—is hospitality. So maybe my true calling is to go into the doughnut business full time.

Before I started teaching, I had this naive feeling that the youngsters would be perfectly behaved, the class members would retain every fact I told them, and the time with me would be their favorite hour of the week.

But I never even accomplished getting them to be perfectly behaved. While all of the youngsters in the class are good kids, two or three seem to suffer from attention deficit disorder and act really hyper. Of course, I am only throwing fuel to the fire by giving them doughnuts full of sugar.

They really do seem to have trouble paying attention. Sometimes I will

ask them what we talked about the previous week, and I will get a bunch of

blank stares. I wish they would at least say doughnuts.

Actually, I have found the rewards of the class to be as rich as—say a cream-filled doughnut. I have enjoyed getting to know these fine youngsters and see their perspectives of the world. I have also felt a sense of satisfaction knowing they realize I am interested in them and their well being.

Recently, promotion day was held for the eighth-graders moving up to the high school class. It was a very sad occasion for me, as I had enjoyed these youngsters for two years. To honor them, I presented each of them a book mark and a gift certificate (not to a doughnut shop, though).

It was a sentimental occasion for me, and my sadness at their departure lingered into that evening.

But as the next Sunday approached, I became excited again thinking about the new sixth-graders moving up.

When the new youngsters were brought to the class from the fifth grade room, they had eager looks on their faces. Unfortunately, I believe their excitement was more over the doughnuts than the class itself.

Hopefully, they will gain some knowledge from my class this year. If not, maybe they will not gain any weight.

As for me, I hope the teaching experience continues to enrich—and sweeten—my life.