The End of An Era

For the past six years, I have been serving as the Primary chorister in my ward. I did it for three years in Bitburg, Germany, had an eight month break when we first moved to PA, and then was called to be it again back in May of 2007. I was released from the calling yesterday, and I can hardly believe it.

I firmly believe that the best calling in the church is Primary chorister. When I hold that calling, I love going to church. I can't think of a better way to spend two hours on a Sunday but singing music with children. Two of my favorite things--music, and kids. Although it was sad to be released, it definitely felt like it was time. My goal had always been to stay in Primary while I still had children in there. Glo will leave in less than a year, so it's all good.

I was a little bit worried that I would be really sad (especially considering how tender my emotions are lately), but there were some really terrific things and people who helped me just rejoice over the time that I had spent in the calling.

First, my dear friend, Katherine Kreiner, got up in Fast and Testimony meeting. Her message was one of being thankful for the teachers that her children have at church, but during her testimony and from the podium, she specifically turned to me and mentioned how much I had meant to her kids. The tears were flowing from both her and me.

Then, when I got up to lead my last singing time, one of the sweet girls, Jasmine, raised her hand and asked exactly what it meant that I was released. It almost broke my heart to tell her that I wouldn't be in there, singing with all of them anymore. Somebody else then piped up and asked who the next singing time leader would be. I pointed out that it was Brother Green who was sitting with the Sunbeams, and I could hardly contain my laughter when I saw the looks on the kids' faces. It's going to take some getting used to, having a man leading the music.

After junior singing time, little Greta Hoffman-Aho came up to me and threw her arms around me. She then whispered in my ear that she didn't want me to leave and asked why I had to go. I tried to explain to her that it was time, but she said she didn't care. She didn't want me to leave.

Then, my worst fear came true. Sister Winscot got up in senior Primary and called me up. I didn't want to go because I wasn't sure that I could hold it all together, but she insisted. I hobbled up to the front of the room where she presented me with "notes" of thanks, handwritten notes from each of the Primary children. It was the best gift I could have received, because I would have eaten any food that I was given, and flowers would have just wilted and died, but "notes" will last forever. Along with some other prized memories of musical experiences that I have on my piano, the vase of "notes" will stand there too, reminding me of those loving, tender experiences.

Then, as I was leaving, a mother of three Primary children who moved out of the ward came up to me. She and her family were visiting for the day. She said that on the way to church, her daughter, Kailee, had said, "I can't wait to see Sister Kennedy in Primary today." Her mother reminded her that I might not be in Primary anymore, so imagine Kailee's smile when I was in fact still there. When we brought her up to sing a welcome song, I reached out to put my arm around her shoulder (I'm not sure she even came up to my waist), and she reached out and grabbed my legs and held on the whole time we sang. It reminded me of an email that I received probably a year ago from a mother in Bitburg ward who now lives in South Carolina. Her smallest daughter who was probably only three when we lived there had said that her Primary wasn't much fun, and she wished that Sister Kennedy led the music in her Primary. Yay for tender-hearted children!

Finally, a woman in the ward came up after church and said, "It feels like the end of an era. I wanted to get up in sacrament meeting today and say, 'Could we all give a round of applause to Sister Kennedy for leading the music for so many years?'"

I am so thankful that I have had this opportunity. I have gotten to know each and every one of those children in Primary. Granted, there was a different, sweeter spirit in the ward in Bitburg, but even here in State College, there were countless moments of joy, laughter and fun. My favorite moments were always those where something unexpected was said, and we all felt closer to each other and to our Savior.

I have bins of visual aids and a shelf of singing time helps. I can't even imagine what I'm going to do with all of that stuff now. Oliver, the ugly doll, will get lonely I'm sure, and who knows when I'll next use my colorful dry-erase markers, my bright cardstock, or my many, many magnets again? Maybe I should title this post "The End of an Era?" with a question mark, because who knows? Maybe after some years have passed, some priesthood leader will come up with the novel idea of calling Sister Kennedy as the Primary chorister :-)