Each year in the Fall, Ward Primaries around the world give a presentation in Sacrament Meeting to the rest of the ward about their theme for the year. The children sing songs - as a whole choir, as solos or in small groups, and if you're lucky enough to have a choir director like Krissy, there's always some instruments involved too - and each child gets a chance at a microphone to quote a scripture, bare their testimony, give a short little talk they wrote themselves, or say a sweet simple sentence the Primary President helps them with - the smallest kids, on tiptoe on a stool, can barely be seen at the pulpit and everyone smiles in appreciation of their precious (and mumbled) voices telling us how they know that Jesus loves them. Throughout the year, the leaders and teachers have prepared lessons and activities to teach the theme, this year's is "I Know My Savior Lives," and we work on memorizing scriptures and songs that also help teach the theme. When we finally get to the actual Sacrament Meeting Presentation, parents and those in the congregation are touched (and often tear up) at all these sweet children testifying and singing. Somehow, no matter any mess ups or confused order of speakers or forgotten and confusedly mumbled 2nd verses of songs, and because of a particular 3-year-old who sings out louder than all the rest, the presentation is always wonderful.
Primary Program practice - our "dress rehearsal" - is another matter though. I spent it coaxing children back out from under the benches and the piano (on the stand in the chapel), confiscating toys and various things turned into toys or weapons, attempting to keep my class focused and facing Krissy so they'd know when to stand all in unison to sing, telling the kid who had a sore throat because he'd "accidentally stabbed it" earlier this week to just stand reverently and mouth the words, telling a boy to put his socks back on his feet and when that continuously failed telling him to at least keep his new sock puppet friends low in his lap, reminding girls to keep their dresses down and not chew on/play with their skirt hems, telling boys that it's not reverent to see who can make the best farting noise, and trying to figure out which combination of children it's the MOST important for me to sit between. (I thought a lot about "the Herdmans")
When the chapel is filled with their parents though, AND after they've each been frisked before going up on the stand, I'm sure it will be a beautiful program.
