…to tell people that someone they know has died. This weekend we’ve been having to do that. The custodian of the church at work had a heart attack on Saturday while cross-country skiing with his wife. Just a tragedy. I’ve never met a church custodian who was also the hospitality committee. Mr. Ken didn’t just take out the trash, vacuum the carpet and arrange tables. He also made sure the coffee was always hot and the mugs always clean. He greeted everybody who came into the church by name. He never complained about soap drips on the sinks or scraps on the floor (which he had every reason to do with 4-yr. olds in the house!). He seemed to always be ready to go the extra mile, if that meant sitting at the welcome center and chatting with a volunteer or bringing in carts of groceries for a preschool he wasn’t technically obligated to work for.
I was a bit nervous about having to tell the kids. But I think we don’t give kids enough credit for being able to deal with tough news. We’ve talked a lot about people dying this year because they hear the bells ring for a funeral and see all the extra people in the hallways. So I just told them that Mr. Ken got really sick on Saturday and didn’t get better. Immediately the group got quiet. We started talking about how he had a wife…how is she feeling today? “SAD.” He had kids…how are they feeling today? SAD. How do we feel, because Mr. Ken was a good helper to us? SAD. So we talked about what we remembered about Mr. Ken: He helped around the church, he carried in food, he made coffee for the workers, he said hi to us. Then we talked about how we could help those who are feeling sad: we could make them cookies, we could draw them pictures, we could make them a card. Then we quieted ourselves down and talked to God about Mr. Ken, and we told God we were feeling sad that we won’t see Mr. Ken anymore, but we’re glad he gets to be with the angels…and (and then we named all the people and animals we know who have died). We closed by singing “Soon and Very Soon…we are going to see the King,” and then we lined up to choose an activity.
You never know how kids are going to take these conversations. The kids who were most engaged as we were talking about Mr. Ken didn’t really say anything about him the rest of the day. But two boys who were goofing off and weren’t really paying attention while we were talking about Mr. Ken obviously were thinking about it. Later in the day we were mixing the last ingredients into our Friendship Bread which we’ve been watching for a week. One kid mentioned that we could give the bread to Mr. Ken. Another kid (one of these boys who rarely sits still during group times) said, “well, he won’t eat it…he’s dead.” Later, another boy who struggles with honoring other people’s feelings and rarely shows regret, said that he would draw a picture of him and his mom and his dad, and that they’ll all “have sad faces, because we’re all sad…and I’ll draw a big tear.”
I was proud of these kids today as we talked about Mr. Ken and celebrated his memory. They identified the complicated feelings of being happy our friend is with Jesus but sad that we won’t see him anymore. They came up with creative ways of trying to help those close to him feel better. They sorted through with each other the reality of death and its effect on things like sharing cookies. And they confidently proclaimed that even though we’re sad, Mr. Ken is singing with the angels…and that’s pretty cool. I think there’s much adults can learn from them.
Thoughts on being a Deaconess 