Warrior Goes To Sunday School
"Daddy, I want to go home."
Gabriel and I were sitting together in our synagouge's sanctuary. The large room was a quarter full of parents and kids, both fidgeting, waiting for a first-day-of-Sunday-school assembly to start. He was cuddling my arm closely.
"Gabriel, this is going to be fun, and I'll be nearby."
"Can you come with me?"
"Gabriel, you already met one new friend...."
A girl a few years older had briefly befriended Gabriel in the lobby. She had confided in us that her ancestors were lions, but that no one believed her. I let her know that our ancestors had been monkeys (Darwin smiles). Gabriel heard this as "aunt-sister," not "an-cestor." He quickly defended his aunt, my sister, reminding me she was not a monkey.
Sitting next to me now, Gabriel pouted, "Yeah, I know, but I wish you could come with me."
"I'll go to school, too, with the parents." At least, I would once those classes started. Right now, a nearby Noah's Bagels was calling my name....
Gabriel shrunk in his seat as the assembly started. The head of the school started with a discussion of Rosh Hashanah. Then she held up a candy bar: a reminder of a sweet New Year that would be passed out to all the kids after class today. Gabriel sat forward in his chair; she had gotten his attention.
Together, the assembled group sang a few songs appropriate for K-8. I joined in loudly on the one I knew, David Melech Yisrael, over-emphasizing the frenetic hand gestures that go with the kids' song. Gabriel laughed and giggled.
"I'm going to start calling names with kindergarten class..." the school's director announced.
"Gabriel, this is going to be your class!" I gave him a thumbs-up. He smiled and returned the same.
Soon after, Gabriel marched off to class with me trailing farther behind. The classes teachers introduced the curriculum, discussed format and pick-up times, asked for questions, then dismissed the parents. I asked one teacher for clarification on the pickup time, and I prepared to leave.
I gave Gabriel a good-bye hug.
"What did she say?" he whispered.
"She let me know when class would be over."
"Will it be a long time?"
"No, not a long time. I think you'll have fun."
I left, Gabriel looking a bit apprehensive behind me.
After wandering the synagouge gift shop and library (one of the better parts of having a child in Sunday school), I drove off to enjoy a toasted pumpernickel bagel. By the time I returned an hour or so later, Gabriel was beaming.
"I wish I could stay longer. We even went to the playground!" One eye dripped with the remnants of red paint or marker. The color of his hands said emphatically, "YES! I did crafts today!" He looked like a junior warrior that had conquered an invading army. Apparently, the first day had not been so traumatic after all.
