Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg. Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. She stammered, “Wh-why, that’s very nice, Jeremy. The other students snickered, and Doris’ face turned red. “I love you, Miss Miller,” he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole class to hear. “Lord, please help me to be more patient with Jeremy.” From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy’s noises and his blank stares. “Here I am complaining when my problems are nothing compared to that family, trying to meet what were probably many medical bills due to his various issues,” she thought. She had other youngsters to teach, and Jeremy was a distraction.Īs she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. But it wasn’t fair to keep him in her class. Its coldness seemed to seep into her soul. We know he really likes it here.”ĭoris sat for a long time after they had left, staring at the snow outside the window. It would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take him out of your class. “Doris,” he said “there is no other class he would fit in. Jeremy’s mother cried softly into a tissue, while her husband spoke. Why, there is a five year gap between his age and that of the other children.” It isn’t fair to him to be with younger children who don’t have learning problems. As they entered the empty classroom, Doris said to them, “Jeremy really has trouble being in the classroom. One day she decided to meet with his parents after church. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just irritated his teacher. At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain. He would squirm in his seat, and make inappropriate noises. His teacher, Doris Miller, often became exasperated with him. Attending a small church, at the age of twelve he was becoming more difficult to have in the Sunday school classroom, comprised of children much younger than him. Jeremy was born with a variety of disabilities. While it may seem dated in its understanding of the special needs of children and how we minister with them, throughout the years it still holds the same beauty, truth and poignancy. Here is an adapted version that seems to have circulated widely and I think it would make a lovely story to share during Eastertide. I first heard the following story twenty-some years ago at Kanuga’s Conference Center in North Carolina told by The Reverend Harry Pritchard. “Had he understood what she had said about Jesus’ death and resurrection? Did he understand to bring back the egg with something inside? Perhaps she should call his parents and explain it to them…”
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