My first week of student teaching, I sat down with my class to discuss a play we were about to rehearse. But what erupted that day was much more dramatic than any play. Eight or nine young men burst through the classroom door and began throwing books, overturning desks, and shouting obscenities.
The main teacher of the class had just distributed last term’s grades, and a group of senior boys, who’d been skipping class before I arrived, were not happy about what they’d received.
For the weeks before my teaching assignment, I prayed about the classes I’d be instructing—asking God to help me see everyone I’d meet as He sees them. We are all His children, I heard angel messages tell me again and again. Each of His children is loving and lovable, blessing and blessed. I saw the one Father-Mother guiding each of us, and filling us with joy, integrity, goodness, and inspiration.
