Teaching children: A cationary tale

Once upon a time there was a church. In this church were many outwardly pious people. They went to church regularly. They made a point of being seen putting something into the plate as it passed down the pews. Some of these people in this little God-fearing church had children.

One boy came from a home where order was very, very important to the father. Things had to be just so. Cleanliness is next to godliness, you know. When things aren’t done in a neat and orderly way, there are consequences. When the family pet wasn’t cleaned up after to the degree the father thought was appropriate, the pet was killed. In the living room. In the children’s presence. The older kids tried to make a joke of it. They didn’t want the younger one to think there was anything wrong with the situation. She might talk. The other children in the neighborhood went to the boy’s church. Everyone went the same church. The children knew what happened to the pet. They didn’t know what to do about it. They didn’t think there was anything they could do.

There was a girl. She had a little sister. She had a grandfather who said he loved these girls very, very much. He did things with the older sister that didn’t seem right. She went to her mother. Her mother told her it wasn’t nice to make up stories and said she shouldn’t mention it to anyone ever again. The older sister never did anything outside of school hours. No sports. No extra activities. She knew that if she wasn’t home by the time the elementary school bus arrived, her little sister would need to go to the safety of her grandparents’ house, because there are bad people out there who can’t be trusted if she were to be home alone. The other children in the neighborhood went to the girls’ church. Everyone went to the same church. The children knew what was happening at “grandpa’s house.” They didn’t know what to do about it. They didn’t think there was anything they could do.

There was a church with good people in it. The adults liked things just so. They liked it when the children came to classes and sat quietly when lessons were being taught. They liked it when the children were sweet and cooperative and cute. The adults didn’t like it when the children had too many questions. Sometimes the questions didn’t have easy answers. The adults didn’t like questions. Neither did the pastor. The children in this church learned it was better to sit quietly. To not ask too many questions, that how things looked was very, very important. The children stopped asking questions.

The parents of the boy and the girl were praised for the regular attendance of their children at church and classes, and that they always had a quarter to drop in the plate when it was passed down the pews. Except for an occasional outburst, these children were very well behaved. When the children spoke out, the people in the church knew the parents would take care of it.