The Visitor

When I was preparing to serve a mission, my bishop called me to teach the Sunbeams. I had never before learned to love others more than myself until I had served those children in such a simple assignment. With time and patience I learned how to keep those seven children in their seats and listening to a simple lesson.

One day I invited Mike* to come to church and visit my class. Mike was my age but had stopped attending church completely by the time he was 12. We had remained friends over the years as I had served as the deacons quorum president, the teachers quorum president, and first assistant to the bishop in the priests quorum. He had been the topic of many fellowshipping discussions and was often part of my prayers. Once in a while Mike would accept my invitations to come to an activity. It always surprised me when he did, so I kept inviting him.

I don’t remember when I invited him to my Primary class, but one day he showed up. At that time, Mike had long, black hair and a beard.

“Class, I would like to introduce you to my friend Mike,” I said to begin my lesson. “He is visiting us today.”

Mike sat next to me in front. The children sat in a semicircle around us with their eyes fixed on Mike. They were much quieter than usual. I was about five or six minutes into the lesson when one little boy got up from his chair and walked across the room and stood directly in front of my friend. He paused for a moment and then climbed onto Mike’s lap. I watched the two of them as I continued with the lesson.

The boy stared into Mike’s face. Mike was quite uncomfortable but did not interrupt the lesson or turn the boy away. The other children watched the two of them for a few minutes.

Then one of the girls climbed off her seat and approached Mike. I was intently interested in seeing how Mike would react, so I did not ask the two children to return to their seats. The girl stood with her hand on Mike’s knee looking into his face.

Then it happened. The boy on Mike’s lap reached up with both hands and turned Mike’s face directly to his. I stopped my lesson to see what was about to unfold.

With the innocence of a child, he said to Mike, “Are you Jesus?”

The look on Mike’s face was total surprise. It seemed, as I glanced at the children’s faces, they all had the same question on their minds.

Mike looked at me as if to ask, Help, what do I say?

I stepped in. “No, this is not Jesus. This is His brother.”

Mike looked at me in shock.

Then without hesitation the boy on Mike’s lap reached up and wrapped his arms around Mike’s neck. “I can tell,” he said as he hugged Mike.

The rest of the children smiled and nodded in agreement as their question was answered. Mike blinked back tears in response to the love he felt from this small Sunbeam. The lesson went on, but that day the teacher who taught the most was a three-year-old child.

Mike spent more than a year getting ready to serve a full-time mission. It thrilled me to learn he left for the mission field a few months before I returned. When I think of those Sunbeams, I think of the scripture in Matthew 18:5: “And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.”