Toward noon on Sunday, the second floor of the Gurdwara Sahib in Glen Cove, Long Island started humming with the sounds of a few dozen small children at play. Outside the three-story white building at 100 Lattingtown Road hangs the saffron triangle-shaped Sikh flag. One flaps outside every Sikh temple around the world.

Freed from their parents who go to prayers in the main temple halls below, the children shuffled and skipped through the hallway towards their Sunday School classrooms, often derailed by a shriek from a friend whom they hadn’t seen all week.

Every conversation began with the murmured greeting “Waheguru Ji Ki Khalsa, Waheguru Ji Ki Fateh,” The Khalsa belongs to God, and to God alone belongs victory. The Khalsa is the baptized state of Sikhs and all Sikhs are expected to be in Khalsa or working towards it as the children are in Sunday School. Here they learn Punjabi, Sikh history and the text and songs of their sacred text: the Guru Granth Sahib.

“Who is going to be an ideal Sikh today?” repeated Mokhetar Singh Kamboj, the tall principal, as he walked down the hallway and gently shepherded the groups of chatting children into classrooms.

When the hallway had finally emptied, Kamboj decided to sit in on the class of the youngest children, a dozen children aged 3 to 6 who sat cross-legged or on their knees around their instructor, a high school-aged young woman in a blue sari. Her hands rested on a harmonium—a large box with a keyboard that forms the backdrop to much Indian music.

The teacher first read two lines of the Gurbani--the text of the Sikh’s devotional songs in the Guru Granth Sahib --without music. Gurbani means message from the teacher.

The children went around repeating the two lines one after another. Then they went around again, each taking turns to sing the two lines they were perfecting that day, a refrain found in many parts of the Gurbani:

Charan Chalo-Charan Chalo-Chalo Maarag Gobind
Mitay Paap-Mitay Paap-Mitay Paap Japeey Har Bind
Walk in the path of Gobind,
Your sins are washed away as you meditate on his name.

Guru Gobind was the last of the ten gurus. Guru Nanak was the first and founded Sikhism in 1669. Gobind gave the community the Guru Granth Sahib, the Sikh holy scripture, as the eternal eleventh guru. It is revered as if it were a living guru, and one is installed in each gurdwara.

Crayoned drawings of the ten different gurus decorated the walls of this classroom. Unlike their parents who wear traditional Indian clothing, the children wear jeans or sweatsuits, and veils and small cloth-covered buns –it will take years to grow enough hair to fill a turban.

The children repeated the two lines all together, and this time the classroom took on a bit of a Romper Room atmosphere as some more rambunctious students competed with one another to sing more loudly.

The teacher stopped abruptly to shush them and remind them to sing respectfully. Kamboj nodded in agreement but his eyes twinkled, pleased by the children’s exuberance.

After they have mastered the two lines, the lesson for the day, Kamboj left the room and slipped into another classroom of seven students aged nine through twelve to catch the tail end of their Sunday School Class on Sikh History.

The children spoke casually about Gobind, and Guru Nanak, with the principal.

“Why do we remember him?” prodded Kamboj.

A boy named Agam, which means “infinity,” piped up. “He speaks the three golden rules.”

“And what are those three golden rules we remember every day of our lives?” said Kamboj.

Agam’s sister Angel, a 13-year-old-girl wearing yellow and a translucent white veil, did not wait to be called upon.

First she recited the Three Golden rules in Punjabi and then went through them again in English.

“First, remember God’s Name in every thing you do. Second, share your money with others, especially with those poorer than yourself.” She paused, searching for the third rule. A look of panic began to take form on her face. Her classmates all turned to her, heads cocked expectantly.

“Work,” Kamboj began to prompt her.

“Third, work hard and honestly,” interrupted Angel in a sing-song voice and smiled triumphantly.

Kamboj beamed and bowed gently as he left the classroom.