Monday, December 17, 2007
Saturday I got a call from the Bishop thanking the Relief Society for their recent ministering efforts. The Sisters had provided Christmas for 4 needy and incredibly deserving families in the ward and one elderly widower. We had enlisted the Bishops help and had him deliver the bags and boxes of gifts anonymously.
“Tell the sisters thank you. (Voice Breaking) You’ve just made some families very happy.”
So many women donated and I was struck by two things. One: even $10 was a sacrifice for some and yet they gave. I am very sure that one of the women we helped donated herself.
And two: It was all done, with the exception of the Bishop and our Presidency, without anyone knowing who the recipient families were. We simply set out a list of needs on a Giving tree and they responded with the items. No fanfare, just quiet giving.
I am proud to belong to an organization that can and does do so much good. The women of our ward, once someone’s needs are known, can be so remarkably generous and kind. And for all my whining and carping and frustrations with the Society of Relief, sometimes we get it right.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Yesterday, Megs, Kenz and I ‘shopped until we dropped’. It was the only time we all had to coordinate our schedules and get the job done. Whew Whee, have I mentioned often enough how much I hate to shop? My idea of shopping, and my girls can attest to this, is to sit in the car while they pick out something in the store and then wait for them to text me to come in with the moola.
It’s not that I don’t like to give gifts, I do. But I really hate to shop. This is because I haven’t the patience for it and I am easily distracted. Luckily, yesterday this was not the case as I had my girlies with me to keep me focused and zipping along.
And zip we did. All of this ‘shop and drop’ frenzy paid off big as we made a huge dent in our Christmas purchases and around 9:00 pm Megs and I crawled into our pajamas, secured the tape (oh, lots and lots of tape, how I love TAPE! ) and scissors and plopped our hineys onto the living room floor. We wrapped and wrapped and talked and talked. For the first hour. By the second hour we were much more reflective and pensive and tired. Megs, I owe you an apology. What you thought was just ‘mom’s cbd*” was really ‘Mom’s yearly Christmas epiphany moment’, er something like that. I am so thankful you urged me to finish wrapping and wouldn’t let me curl up into a ball and go to sleep right there among the tape and ribbon. I appreciate your gift wrapping leadership. Really, I do. If it weren’t for you I would still be wrap, wrap, wrapping instead of lying here thinking about deep stuff. Stuff like ‘Life is too short to use weird snowman wrapping paper that creeps me out’ and ‘what kind of person designed this paper and is there a curriculum or special upper division class for wrapping paper design?’ And the big question, one for the ages, ‘What constitutes good wrapping paper art?’ ‘Is there an academy award, maybe called the wrappies, for the years best wrapping paper?’
Thankfully and because I was a disciplined wrapper last night (Megs, you are a great wrapping session life coach) this morning I am at my leisure to reflect and ponder on the deep meaning of questions like these. And the joy just continues as I am wistfully conjuring up and fondly remembering favorite wrapping papers of my Childhood. Because I am deep like that. And because it soooo matters.
*Cranky butt disorder