The Touch of Class October 7, 2013 ISSUE

The Sunday School gift

Bruce Richardson

When I was just about to turn 20, I went home on leave from the military and had my last Christian Science Sunday School class with my favorite teacher. Mr. D. was a businessman and dad—he had a son named Bruce, and we got along great from our first class together when I was in high school. At the end of that last class with Mr. D., he said he “expected great things” from me and challenged me to become a Sunday School teacher and church member.

Just as I was about to leave, he handed me a slip of paper. He mentioned that I might want to consider taking Christian Science class instruction and wrote down the name of a teacher with whom I could talk about it. I stuffed the piece of paper in my wallet and really didn’t pay much attention to it, except I did read the name he had written down.

A year later, I graduated from the US Military Academy at West Point, became an artillery officer, and completed the Army’s Airborne and Ranger schools. After tours of duty with the 82nd Airborne in North Carolina, the 25th Infantry Division in Vietnam, and the 4th Infantry in Colorado, I left the military to go to graduate school in business.

Before I started my graduate studies, I went to Boston to attend a meeting of college students who were Christian Scientists. At a breakout session, there was a speaker whom I wanted to hear, so I joined the group. As I sat down, a man turned to me and introduced himself. His name was on the paper I carried in my wallet.

I laughed and said: “I’ve been waiting to meet you. I have carried your name with me for over five years!” I showed him the now badly worn piece of paper Mr. D. had given me on my last day in Sunday School. Through my years of military service I had not lost it or thrown it away. I told this man that I was interested in Christian Science class instruction, but I drank alcohol in social situations—“Is that OK?” I asked. He told me that on social occasions he and his wife looked for non-alcoholic options, and, with regard to what I’d just told him, “We could pray about it.” Also, he would send me an application for his class.

After that meeting, I never had any more alcohol. I was accepted into this teacher’s next class, and I am especially grateful for the spiritual progress resulting from the instruction from this devoted teacher. I have had several opportunities to serve my Christian Science branch church as First Reader and a member of its board, and I have taught Sunday School for many years. Mr. D. would approve.

About the author

Bruce Richardson lives in St. Louis Park, Minnesota.

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