The first Bible story I remember hearing was the story of John the Baptist—not because Bubba preached on it last week, but because Louise Horton told it to me—in Bible class. I thought John must have looked a lot like Grizzly Adams, my favorite television character at the time, and that added to my fascination with him. But Miss Louise made me love the Bible and love the stories in the Bible, a love affair that has yet to cool.

Not a day passes at the building that there is not one of our ladies (more often, several ladies) in the workroom or in their classroom preparing for Sunday morning or Wednesday evening classes. Some evenings I come by the building and find husbands making construction paper cut-outs (under the close supervision and scrutiny of their wives). Mothers and daughters or pairs of teachers are making copies and designing lessons or review games or some clever way to make the lesson visible and memorable to eager eyes and ears. We’ve just purchased a new copier and, through the beneficence of one of our sisters, a die-cut machine to add to a well-furnished workroom. There is a contagious enthusiasm about our Bible classes, that is well-founded, and the fruit of it is being seen in a coming generation of young boys and girls who know their Bibles—not just the names of the books, but the contents of the books, and the theme of the Book.

I salute our teachers who sacrifice their evenings and their weekends preparing materials, improving materials, copying materials, laminating materials, presenting materials that become the fabric of impressionable minds.

I salute husbands who have glue under their fingernails and cramped hands for being too long at the scissors for their wives who are teachers. I salute couples who’ve made schedules to resolve disputes over using their home computer in preparing lessons.

I salute all those who wake up at 3 AM with a new idea for Bible class. I salute all those who, after working eight hours on the perfect idea, leave it at home. I salute those who have the perfect presentation when everyone’s out of town.

I salute those whose class really knew the story until the Elders sat in. I salute those who have 547 visitors for the review lesson. I salute teachers whose well-informed students suddenly become mutes when parents ask what they learned in class today.

I salute Bunny Balmer and Peggy Henson for inspiring a new generation to teach and an old generation to keep growing as teachers. I salute Barbara Banks for keeping our workroom supplied, and Pert I’Anson for keeping it together.

I salute Craig Campbell for the research and depth that he brings to his classes, Billy Stover for the heart and practicality that he contributes, Jimmy Balmer and Gregg Baker for making old stories seem new and complex messages simple.

I salute all our teachers for being not just teachers but practitioners of the message they teach. I salute them for trying, for caring, for trying to do it better, for succeeding, for tolerating criticism and lethargy, for interpreting success as causing others to hunger and thirst for righteousness but not being discouraged when some are just hungry for lunch.

Thanks, Miss Louise, for making me hungry. Thanks, to all of our teachers, for making us thirsty for more.