Thanks to All of You in the Nursery

by John V. Upton, Executive Director

I remember Deborah’s comment well: “John, it’s our time to keep the nursery today, but I have to help another class during that time.”  The message was clear.  The nursery was to be mine and another dad’s that Sunday morning, and ours alone.

Five minutes before the worship service began, nine children under four years of age arrived.  I loved the parents’ reaction to seeing me: “Oh, are you keeping the nursery today?”  Then they assailed me with instructions.  “The diapers for Joanie are in this bag, and wipes – you know, in case you need them.”  (Diapers!? Wipes!? Surely not!)  “Billy’s teething, so he may cry a little at first, but he’ll quiet right down if you rock him a little.”  (I later discovered that the rocking position is what gives Billy direct access to that salve for soar gums: your neck.)  “Stevie is a little shy at first, but he’ll be fine after I leave.”  (Stevie had wrapped both arms and legs around his mother’s waist and was screaming and kicking.)

Suddenly we were alone in a room full of children.  The action began.  “Michael, we don’t bite people on the ankle just because they took your toy.”  Sarah climbed the slide to its four-foot height.  I turned just in time to see her shoot down the slide head first, hitting the floor with an impact that produced a scream I hadn’t heard since Tarzan called the elephants.  I rushed to check on her and was pleased to find she would live to call elephants another day.

The moment for rejoicing passed quickly, however.  The room soon had an odorous aroma, signaling that what I dreaded most was now a current event.  All eyes were riveted to see what I would do, including those of my colleague, who made double sure he remained on the other side of the room.  The children had found something more entertaining than taking toys from one another or sliding headfirst backward.

It was in the nursery where I learned to spell relief “f-i-n-a-l  h-y-m-n.”  And the sound of the organ playing was more welcomed than the bugle of cavalry coming to the rescue.  Parents arrived, and a few of the children removed their thumbs from their mouths long enough to wave good-bye, and Stevie actually  wrapped both arms and legs around my waist and yelled that he didn’t want to leave.
Deborah returned and asked, “How did it go?”  All I could manage to say in response was, “Now I understand Jesus’ words, ‘Suffer the little children to come.’”  I also discovered that from that moment on, all those little ones would be uniquely special to me and I would keep a keen interest in each child’s future achievements and growth.

“O Lord, bless those who keep our nurseries week after week.  May they have joy and peace all the days of their lives… and plenty of diapers at hand.  In the name of Him who loved to be surrounded by children, Amen.”