The young people in my church do not communicate with one another as I did with my peers growing up. One main factor is technology. Some of the children have the bad habit of scrolling (as adults) when around the temple. I didn’t realize it was an issue until I asked one child to call another.

Who him?

Yes! You see him every week and don’t know his name?!

Not all the children have a personal phone but all of them at one point or the other use the phone for recreational activities while in the temple. When school let out and it was time for the Youth Conference, I had one agenda: get the children to learn each other names. I planned a day trip to Brooklyn and got the parents involved. The morning of the trip, I asked the children:

Who can name everyone in the group?

No one could.

Great. This leads me to the next ask. I ask you all to leave your phones at the church while we travel.

What?! Not my phone!?

Yes, your phone. Leave it here. Challenge yourself to talk to each other and learn one another names.

It didn’t take too much begging as I thought it would. As a matter of fact, they did so willingly.

When I told the Little Flock we were going to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, they were ecstatic.

It’s a mile long to said to them.

Oh, that’s no problem! They said. One of them, Carter, told me of the time he and his dad rode their bikes over 5 miles!

The picture above is of them before the trek. Standing with them is Mother Grace. She’s excited as well.

Here’s another photo. This one really captures their joy. What you don’t see is the huge black cart I have filled with their bags and food. What they didn’t know at that moment was, I was NOT going to be responsible for pushing the food cart alone.

I warned them of the many people crossing the bridge and told them to stick with the group. I also told them about the many vendors and reminded them that the only food we were eating was in the cart.

We started out and there was so much to see and learn!

By the time we were half way across the bridge, everyone was looking for an exit, a way out, and even though I am smiling, I am too!

Mother Grace was doing a great job taking photos. As you can see, the cart is being passed around and now Ely is pushing it. He did so with the joy of a child which made him the official cart pusher until someone else got jealous and he happily passed the job on to them.

We reached the end of the bridge (finally) and you would have thought they never walked a block in their lives. I was weighed down by their lack of not wanting to walk anymore. They began to remind me of the itinerary for the day:

Are we getting pizza now? Where is the park? Can we get ice cream?

We got to the park and they ate lunch (from the cart) and played for almost two hours! I couldn’t believe that they couldn’t walk abut could play and play and play!

Soon it was time to get brick oven pizza but instead of going to a pizza parlor, we ended up at an ice cream shop that sold all sorts of ice cream even for lactose intolerant children.

Ely who helped the most and made it his duty to remember everyone’s name got a milk shake. He was the only one who didn’t have to spend his own money.

They laughed and talked garrulously.

The mall had some fun exhibitions to check out.

But pretty soon it was time to go back home and the first question they asked was-

Are we going back across the bridge?

Maybe. Why?

Because we are tired. We can’t walk across that bridge.

Well maybe we will take the train from here.

Please. Please. We beg of you.

I looked at them and laughed. We took the train instead of walking across the bridge. Everyone went to sleep on the long train ride back to the Bronx. Even I dozed off right before it was time to get off!

I was awaken by the little boy with the high pitched voice. Amir shouted in my ear and pulled my arm.

Sisstria! Sistria! It’s our stop!!

How he remembered our stop is still unbeknownst to me.

I jumped up and everyone followed. Scrambling. We got on the platform and I trudged along with the sleepy children. One little girl was walking with her eyes closed, holding on to my arm. We maneuvered through the crowed station until she cried ouch!! ouch!!

I looked down at her.

What happen?

I bumped into his arm!! Ouch, my eye!

I looked up at an embarrassed tall man who was standing akimbo. “Sorry”, miss, he mumbled. She walked smack into my elbow.

I quickly moved on.

How did you walk into his elbow? The child was holding my arm tighter.

My eyes are closed. I am sleepy.

But darling, I said, stopping to look at her face, you can’t walk on the platform with you eyes closed. I scolded as we continued walking and picked up our pace. “You can hang on to my arm but you must open your eyes!!” I thought of the irony of it all, here I am hoping they will get to know each other names and these kids seem to have an agenda of their own. The audacity, walking with her eyes closed!

We finally got out of the station and walked back to church. I thought they were going to be anxious about using their phones once we arrived back at the church; but they continued to eat and talk with one another (with their eyes wide open) until it was time to go home.