The last Sunday in October, our girls got to participate with the other 4-11-year-olds in our ward's Primary program. After the sacrament, I left the stand (because I'm the ward chorister) and sat with my family, only to have the three older girls leave our bench to join their teachers, leaders and fellow Primary kids on the stand.
Miriam's part came first. She was the very first speaker in the program, which can be a little bit daunting for a 4-year-old Sunbeam. She stood on the stool behind the pulpit, took a shaky breath, and started with, "Heavenly Father, we thank--" and then abruptly stopped. Her part started with the words "Heavenly Father," but after she said that, her brain went on autopilot, and she started saying a prayer instead. Gratefully, she was able to get help from the Primary counselor seated next to the pulpit, who whispered a few words in her ear. As soon as she was reminded of her part, Miriam quoted it word for word and sat down.
After several more children and a few songs, Analee's part came next. She had been asked to share a story about James E. Faust as a child, then add a few thoughts of her own. She had the story memorized perfectly, but when she got to the part where she could ad lib a little bit, she inhaled, looked around, then turned around and sat down. I asked her afterward why she hadn't said anything else. "I forgot what else I was going to say," she admitted. I reassured her that nobody but her parents and the Primary presidency knew there was supposed to be anything that followed the story.
Rebekah's parts came toward the end of the program. She had been asked to memorize something about "The Family: A Proclamation to the World," which she recited without incident. A couple weeks prior to the program, she had been asked to fill in for another little girl who knew she'd be out of town that day. So Rebekah was also asked to recite the lyrics to "I'll Seek the Lord Early" while the pianist played it in the background.
Rebekah knew the song. She's sung it before, and she and I had practiced the lyrics. She was doing a beautiful job of saying the lines with expression and waiting for the piano before moving on to the next line when I saw a look of utter panic cross her face. So many of the lines begin with "I'll" or "I," and she had gotten a little lost. The music was moving on without her, so from the back row of the middle section where our family sits, I silently mouthed, "I'll keep His commandments" and prayed she'd remember and understand.
Amazingly, her eyes had found mine in that instant, and she proved herself to be an incredible lip-reader. Relief flooded her face as she recited what I had just reminded her of, then she finished the song and sat down. At the conclusion of the meeting when she found me on the stand (I had gone back up to lead the congregation in the closing hymn), the first words out of her mouth were, "Thanks for the help, Mom."
This little experience brought me more joy than it warranted. Rebekah had needed help and been able to find mine in a sea of faces. Would it have been the end of the world if she had truly forgotten that line? No. Would the same lovely lady who had helped Miriam with her part have helped Rebekah? Of course. But in a split second, I had been able to understand her need and communicate to her silently in a room full of friends and neighbors.
My super-capable, ever-growing 9-year-old looked to her mom for guidance. I hope she'll continue to seek me out as she matures and faces the many road bumps she will inevitably encounter in the world. And I hope that I'll be guided to know the next line, the right thing to say to her, when she those times come.