Joseph

I was leading worship at Wishaw United Reformed Church on Sunday morning. It's a small congregation (10 - 12 on a good day) and they meet in a room in a modern community centre. On Sunday, a few of the 'regulars' were unable to be present but the daughter and grand-daughter of one lady were there. They don't live locally but come along to that church when visiting her.

When I arrived, the wee girl (Chloe is eight) asked me if there was anything she could do to help and we agreed on a number of ways in which she could take part. Her gran said that she would be happy to sit and draw while the other parts of the service were happening.

During the service I asked her a couple of times what she was working on and she said she was writing a story-book. She hadn't finished and didn't want to show it to us until she was done.

Imagine my amazement, then, when the service ended and I was having coffee with the adults; Chloe came up and gave me the story-book she had been writing during the service (in between the parts when she'd been 'visibly' involved).

I had been talking about part of the story of Joseph (of Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat fame) and I was astonished that Chloe had decided to write and illustrate the story (including all the bits preceding the episode I was focusing on) in her own words. She had obviously picked up on what I was speaking about and took it from there.

To be given that as a gift to take away made me feel more grateful and more humble than I thought possible. If I had turned up expecting to teach, I left feeling as if I had been the one taught. All my carefully-crafted words overtaken by a child's kindness.