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His Ways Are Higher
Than Our Ways
By Christine Cerna
As I taught a classroom full of little Salvadorans,
I held a baby on each hip. When we sang
children’s choruses, I relied on the children
to do the actions since my hands were full. I
taught the lesson as I fed the two toddlers
cookies—lots of cookies. With their little
mouths full, they hardly made any noise, and
class was a big success.
“I hope you don’t mind. Estiven ate quite a few
cookies during class. He was such a good boy,
thank you for coming today. I enjoyed taking
16 care of him,” I explained to the young mother,
Dora. She was clearly not happy about my
cookie usage. She made a negative comment
and was gone. “Well, we will never see them
again,” I thought to myself as I began cleaning
up crayon pieces and cookie crumbs.
Dora came back the next Sunday and the next.
Upon peeking out the classroom window with
a baby on each hip again, I was surprised to see
her boyfriend sitting next to her in church. It
was then that I began to understand more of