My Garage Sunday School
Patricia Ann Brown:
"Can you come with me to Sunday School?" Betty Grace, a neighborhood child, extended the invitation to us many times. My sister and I, about nine and seven years old, begged our mother to let us go. We had never gone to church. We knew who Jesus was; our parents had a calendar in their bedroom with a picture of Jesus in the temple at age 12. But I thought he was a girl! One day, Mother said we could go. The "church," a long block and a half away, was the garage of Mr. and Mrs. Batcheller. It was complete with a tiny pump organ, flannel graph boards, a big chart with words neatly printed for each chorus, a rhythm band of homemade instruments, lots of visual aids, and a zither, which Mrs. B. played as a treat. A handful of other children met there as well. We were enthralled as Mrs. B. taught the Word of God through music, stories with graphics, object lessons, and prayer.
Immediately, we were hooked; we couldn’t wait to go back the next time! Our introduction to Christ had begun; almost immediately the two of us asked Jesus to come into our hearts. We never missed a service from then on — Sunday School, Bible class on Tuesdays and, later on, prayer meeting on Wednesdays. We delighted in the wonder of the Bible. Within a few years, we were teaching the smaller children.
Several years later, when our baby brother was about two, he began coming with us, too. Not long after our mother came and gave her heart to the Lord. But it wasn’t until about 10 years later that our father accepted Christ. The circle was complete! Mother became a worker with the women’s ministries and regularly sent cards to the children at Hillcrest Children’s home. Daddy became a deacon and secretary of the Board. Our brother obtained a Doctorate of Ministry and became a pastor, teacher and author—all as a result of one little girl inviting us to Sunday School and a teacher who loved God and children and made the Bible come alive. Today, what I remember most about the Bible is what I learned during my most impressionable years under the godly guidance of Mrs. Batcheller.
What if Betty Grace had not invited us? What if Mrs. B. had not opened her home and her heart to the children of our neighborhood? I don’t know where Betty Grace is, but I know that she, too, has stars in her crown.
Ken Horn:
I was that baby brother. My earliest memories include that garage; it was the first Sunday School I knew. Then, it seemed so large. The classrooms were but tiny spaces separated by hanging curtains. But as a toddler, I saw my own little curtained space as a wonderland filled with real Bible characters on the high-tech visual of the day, the flannel graph. How wonderful it was.
This past September, my sisters, Ellene and Pat, and I (along with other family members) had a family reunion. We returned to the vacation spot of our childhood for the first time in some 30 years. And we went to see Mrs. Batcheller.
More than 50 years after my sisters first entered the garage Sunday School, Mrs. B. still lived there. We snapped a picture with her in front of the garage. It was that garage Sunday School that introduced my sisters to Jesus. It was that garage Sunday School that started my life as one that would follow the Savior. There at the little house church, my mother came to know the Lord. And though it was not there, it was because of that garage Sunday School that my father eventually made his commitment to Christ.
When we went to visit Mrs. B., I didn’t know that the house she lived in was the very same, with the very same garage. My, what an impact was made on our family... by a Sunday School in a little garage with curtains.
