Relief-Society-Favor Cute

Last Saturday I made pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies. I wished I could call our grandkids and invite them to come get one, and thought as I often do, “I wouldn’t wish any of them to come back here to live in Moses Lake simply because we miss them; they have wonderful, fulfilling lives where they are, and they followed personal inspiration to live where they live, but sometimes, just sometimes I really wish we all lived on the same mile and the grandkids could walk over to visit and get a cookie.”

The next morning I woke up thinking there had to be a grandma somewhere wishing that her grandchildren lived close to her instead of in Moses Lake.

I packaged the cookies up in cute, little, orange with white polka-dot bags and went to church looking for some children whose grandma lived far away.  At first I saw the Davis children quietly sitting on the pew; their grandma is serving a mission in Australia. Next I saw the Johnston boys, four of them. Max, who is 3, came with his dad to say hello.  His dad said, "Max, tell Sister Payne what you’re wearing today.” 

Max ducked his head into his dad’s chest so I guessed, “Max, are you wearing big boy underwear?” 

He looked at me carefully and slowly smiled. I pulled his pants out a bit so that I could see what character was on them and said, “Ninja turtle shorts?  Oh Max.  Ninja turtles are very cool!” 

His smile got bigger.  

Max reminded me of Eliza and Henry, two of our grandchildren, who are in the beginning stages of potty training, and it just seemed like he and his brothers could use a cookie.  

Thank you to Max's grandma, wherever she lives, for encouraging her family to live in Moses Lake. Her little grandsons filled a void and gave me someone to give cookies to.

Max and his brothers could have cared less how cute their cookies were packaged.

Part of my responsibilities for our Stake Relief Society Leadership meeting tomorrow night was to prepare a favor that would reinforce and remind the sisters of the message taught.  Maybe Max and his brothers didn't care if their cookie came in a cute bag with a cute tag, but women do.  So I put a green tag that says it all on an orange bag. 

Instead of cookies, I thought white chocolate popcorn sprinkled with fall-colored m&m's, candy corn, and oreo cookies would be a festive filler. I was wrong.  It looks u.g.l.y. in the bags.  They need something flat-er and now I'm out of time so there will be no favors at our meeting . . .   

. . . but there will be a lot of happy kids where I work, because, like Max, they don't care about relief-society-favor cute so they'll eat the dishpan full of popcorn.

You win some, you lose some, but should you need orange bags, give me a call.  I've got 200 minus 4.