FHE: A Blesson

The Anecdote

Kevin coined a new term tonight: "Blesson." She was downstairs playing and I called down to her, telling her it was her turn to teach the lesson tonight and I asked her what she wanted to teach. I didn't get much of a response, but I did overhear her tell her baby doll that we were going to have "a blesson and a test-a-mode-ee for famoween."

A couple of hours later, after Sly had gone to bed and Daddy had finished working on the still-not-finished sprinkler system (don't worry, neighbors, we are getting there! It's just a matter of moving dirt!), we sat down on the floor for a short FHE. Kevin had told me a couple of times that she wanted to share her testimony for FHE, so I figured we would just run with that and have a brief discussion about a what a testimony includes. I tried to let Kevin take the lead in the discussion (because, after all, she was in charge of the blesson), but after five minutes of hearing about her baby's screaming problem, we took back the reins.

I asked her what a testimony is (three times). She finally quit obsessing over her doll's behavior long enough to look to Daddy for help. He told her that a testimony is something we believe in and share with others.

"Kevin, do you love Jesus?"
"Yes, I love him!"
"Then that is part of your testimony."
"I love him and I want to go to him's house."
"Where is Jesus' house?"
"You want to come to him's house too, Mommy?"
"Yes. Did you know that Jesus' house is the Temple? Do you love the temple?"
"Yes."
"Then that is part of your testimony!"

We went on to talk about the prophet, and our family, and how we want our family to be forever, and how all of those things are part of her testimony. I ended the lesson by telling her, "even though you are small, you still have a testimony. And as you get bigger, if you work hard, your testimony will grow too."

"Yes," she said, "Because you will teach me."

The Epilogue:

Daddy tells her someday she could go on a mission and share her testimony every day, and she says, "On my mission?" and he says, "Yes. When you get bigger." Then she said, "I'm going to need a wedding dress, a small one."  And then Daddy tries to change the subject from her getting married someday (because, for some reason, a daughter's mission is easier for a Dad to handle than the thought of her getting married--even though Mommy was in tears when she heard the phrase "my mission" come out of her preschooler's mouth), and tells her about how when he decided he wanted to marry Mommy, he asked her to marry him and she said yes. Kevin then responds, "I would have said no." Then, because she knows she has somehow wounded her father, she quickly adds, "But when I am bigger I will say yes! Can we have a treat?" She didn't say no to the cookies.

The Moral of the Story

Blessons don't have to be long. They don't have to be planned in advance. They don't have to be full of object lessons, activities, pictures, puppets, or youtube videos. They don't even have to be about gospel topics.

They just have to happen. 

And when lessons happen, miracles happen. 

Lessons full of blessings=blessons.

Kevin was on to something after all.