Teachers like Billie Anderson, who would later serve as assistant director for two decades, remembered the spiritual atmosphere. “I loved sharing Bible stories, verses, and songs about Jesus with the children,” she said. “Hearing them sing... I was blessed.”
By 1975, enrollment expanded, kindergarten and summer programs were launched, and the center’s license grew to serve 110 children. Children who attended sometimes came back years later as parents.
Serving families quickly became more than childcare—it evolved into a broader community ministry. It marked an era when Baptist Temple began to focus on ministering to a neighborhood that was rapidly transitioning, in keeping with the words of Jeremiah 29:7: “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you.”
When McEntire retired in 1988 after 18 years of service, her successor, Audrey Good, continued the Christian-centered model of care. Good ensured that faith remain the thread running through everything. “We are a Christian program that provides songs, prayers and other activities that acknowledge God’s love for children,” she said.
The Early Learning Center (ELC) adapted across generations: remodeled facilities, expanded age groups, after-school programs, accessible playground construction, and the acceptance of CCS vouchers for working families.
But no challenge was greater than COVID-19. Kathleen Lanzalotto, became the center's director just as shutdowns began. With medical workers and first responders needing childcare to perform essential tasks, closing wasn’t an option. She re-trained staff, created safety protocols, and reopened after a two week break. Under her leadership, the center grew, bought a new van, expanded after-school care, and earned a dramatic jump in its online ratings.
The program has reached the highest distinction available from the Texas Rising Star program: a Four-Star rating, recognizing excellence above state standards. “We are aiming for best practices,” said Baptist Temple Executive Pastor Jonathan Clark.
For many parents, the difference is obvious the moment they arrive. “It looks and smells clean,” said Assistant Director Cindy Mendez.
One parent, Eric Estrada, said he once planned to keep his baby at home. But after enrolling, he changed his mind. “It feels like she’s with adults who care about her as much as we do,” he said.
Staff say their philosophy is simple: you can teach skills, but you can’t teach a heart for children. “If you love kids, you’re paying attention to them,” said a staff member.
What sets the ELC apart isn’t only the curriculum or the professional standards. It’s the consistency of mission. Faith remains central, with chapel services every Wednesday to honor the Proverbs 22:6 imperative to “Train up a child in the way he should go...”
After more than 25 years of service to ELC, Pat Mejia became director in 2025.She started at ELC as a teacher in 1999 and became an office assistant in 2020. After completing the required courses, she was promoted to assistant director in 2023.
Through neighborhood transformation, economic hurdles, changing family needs, and even a global pandemic, the Early Learning Center’s 55-year story is not just a timeline—it’s a testament to endurance, faith, and the generations who shaped it.
As a child growing up in poverty, she felt like an outsider even in her own home. “I overheard my mom one time telling my oldest sister, ‘I don’t want you talking to Adelina too much because she’s gonna corrupt your mind,’” Sanchez recalled. “I was always left out.”
Those words settled deep into her heart. As a teenager, she dreamed of finishing school and escaping poverty. “I wanted to graduate and do something for myself,” she said.
Instead, she became pregnant and her mother insisted she marry. “I didn’t know nothing about taking care of my baby,” she said.
Her husband was a hard drinker and the marriage became abusive. During one violent incident, she said her husband struck her in the head with a brick, requiring eight stitches. “He almost killed me,” she said.
That was the night she called her mother and came home to San Antonio. But returning to San Antonio did not bring healing. The feeling of isolation followed her into adulthood. “My sisters still wouldn’t talk to me,” Sanchez said. “I have eight sisters and three brothers, and they all treat me the same.”
She managed to raise two sons, but the hardships continued to mount. In 2020, one of her sons died suddenly from a heart attack at age 43. Her other son had just finished serving fifteen years in prison, was released this August, and was soon arrested again.
In her grief and isolation, she felt her heart turning back toward God. She started attending Robbie White’s Bible study class where she learned about forgiveness and faith. She began volunteering in the thrift store, and she kept coming to worship. Still, social connections remain difficult for her and she hesitates to call the people around her friends. “I have just acquaintances,” she said.
She has been through so much loss—her oldest son gone, her youngest son cycling in and out of jail, and loneliness waiting for her at home. Her days now revolve around the gym, the thrift store, and church. After a lifetime of rejection, violence, and loss, she keeps coming. She keeps trying. “I’m trying to reach out,” she said, “I've been through a lot.”
I told her, “You are very welcome here… Jesus died for you.”
Adelina accepted Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord and was recently baptized at Baptist Temple. In a life marked by rejection and hardship, Adelina has found a place where she is seen—not as a burden, not as an outsider, but as someone God loves, someone worth saving, someone whose story does not end in pain. She is still walking through grief, still learning community, still discovering hope. But she is not walking alone anymore.
Linda first came to Baptist Temple in 1998, where her parents were now attending. The church had an average worship attendance of 450 at the time and Linda had trouble fitting in. She said, “Coming in new felt hard because there were cliques.”
She eventually found her place teaching children’s Sunday school and singing in the choir, but after several years, she moved away.
Upon returning to San Antonio, Linda found her way back to Baptist Temple where she was enthusiastically welcomed. She described the current atmosphere as more of a community than her earlier experience and greater than in the other churches she had visited. She felt especially embraced by Melissa Baxter and Karen Newman. She said, "I was welcomed back with open arms."
Wanting to serve God through her church, she once again sang in worship and started teaching Sunday school --this time to adult women. Karen was one of her mentors and led Linda through the “Multiply Movement” discipleship course. Another mentor is Melissa, with whom she co-teaches Sunday School.
Baptist Temple recently ordained Linda as a deacon, an office she has always held in high regard. She recalls the times the church has been without a pastor and the deacons provided stability. She named Robert Newman and Steve Grinnell as role models for their dedication and involvement in church activities.
She’s faced some tough times in her life but recognizes that her personal difficulties strengthened her ability to bless others. She feels that her experiences enable her to offer compassion and kindness to people in pain. Linda emphasizes that the essence of being a deacon is caring for people. Her commitment is to be present for others. “I've had people call me at three o'clock in the morning who couldn't go to sleep and they needed prayer. And it's like, fine, let's go, let's pray. It's being there when someone needs you,” she said.
