When I was 4. I used to go to Sunday School. It was fun. I thought. We sat in inward facing circles with children of our own age with about six children in each circle with space for a 'teacher'.
One Sunday we were singing a hymn. I have no idea which one but presumably one suitable for young children. At some point I opened my eyes and realised that no-one in my circle was singing except me. So I stopped singing.
When we finished The Teacher leading the Sunday School called me up to the front of the hall. My circle was one of the nearest to her so I didn't have very far to go.
"Why did you stop singing?" she asked me.
"Because everyone was looking at me." was my lame, but I assume truthful, reply.
"What makes you think you are that important?" she responded and sent me back to my seat.
That was about 75 years ago and I can remember it as if it had happened yesterday.
It was an unspeakably cruel thing to do do to a child that age and at the time it stung and made me self conscious and, of course, made me the butt of teasing for a good while.
On reflection though it was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I rarely get embarrassed when something potentially embarrassing happens to me I automatically remember her words and realise that, in reality, no one is looking at me. Everyone is far too concerned with their own world.
