Holy Tears: How a Third Grader Made The Mandalorian Cry

 It was Hero Show-and-Tell Day in class. Every storybook hero or superhero you could imagine was represented, from Robinson Crusoe to Dog Man to Wonder Woman. I was seated in the back near one of my third graders who was very patiently waiting for her turn to go up and present. When I asked if she was ready, she looked at me with her big brown eyes, and lifted one of her cupped hands to reveal a little, white, electric tea light nestled comfortably in her palm. Quickly she clamped her hands back over it. I took that as her way of saying yes. 

Somehow I understood her silent gesture and knew who her hero was going to be. I also understood that this moment was very special for her. She was unusually quiet and pensive and, well, I don’t know how else to say it but I pick up on subtleties like nobody’s business. I just knew. 

She walked to the front of the classroom, turned around, and immediately proceeded to tell her story in a shy yet strong voice, hands closed firmly around her trinket the entire time.

“Well,” she began. “My hero is Jesus…because…because He saved my life and opened my eyes to the truth of who He is.” 

At this point her lip started quivering, and I could see she was holding back tears. The room went completely silent, not even the squeak of a chair or the rustle of paper could be heard (a third grade miracle). She had their full attention. 

“There was a time before COVID-19 when I believed in God and knew Him to be mighty and powerful and like this big, awesome force who created everything and could do everything. But…but during COVID…I began to worry and wonder if…if He was really going to take care of us. But that’s when Jesus showed me that He was really real. He provided for all our needs, and He did take care of us, and, well, that’s why He’s my hero.” 

Eyes full of tears and hands still firmly clasped, she finished her presentation. Her lips hadn’t stopped quaking the whole time, and her voice had cracked twice as she struggled against her emotions. 

In my line of work, I get to witness many shed tears. Tears of frustration. Tears of separation anxiety. Tears of hurt feelings, of nervousness, of pain, or of fear. It’s one of the many honors of being a teacher. And I’d be lying if I didn’t for a split second wonder if I should rescue her. But something held me back. It was important to let her struggle with these tears. These tears were holy.

“Wow, Sara. That was beautiful,” I said. “Why don’t you show them the little prop you brought with you?”

Smiling, she uncupped her hands and silently showed them her light. She felt no words or explanation were necessary.

For those of you who don’t know Jesus, He is the Light of the World, and Sara’s tiny tea light represented Him perfectly. 

Later she told me she had found the tea light in her backpack, apparently randomly, and it reminded her of who her hero was. But I don’t think her discovery was an accident.

Today, Sara’s simple testimony was so much more than words. As she spoke, the Holy Spirit descended upon that room and touched every child. While we clapped in applause, I saw Silas, dressed to the nines in his Mandalorian suit, aggressively wiping away tears. “WHOA!,” he announced. “Guys…I’m SO not joking, that seriously made me CRY…and I have no idea why! Wow!”

We know, buddy. That’s what knowing Jesus feels like. That’s what being in the presence of the Holy Spirit does to a person. It’s glorious and moving and sometimes we have no idea why we’re crying but it’s because He’s just that awesome. 

Thank you, Lord, for touching our hearts today through your daughter Sara.