Alas, what shall I do with my Sunday mornings now? No more agendas to create, assignments for talks, and counting up the attendance numbers for the month. And, even more difficult - missing out on all of the antics of 3-11 year old kids. 62 of them. Ok, 53 show up each week. It's the attendance thing coming out in me.
Our stake was shaken up a bit over the last few weeks and as a result, I'm in a brand new ward fit together with pieces and parts of pre-existing wards. I'm excited about it, but sad it came to an end.
By the way, for those who don' know, this is all "Mormon speak" in this entry.
I've been in primary for over three years in this particular ward. I think they fired me from teaching in Relief Society, but that is ok. I've been a Relief Society teacher in many past wards. If it takes firing to have a break, so be it. In my three years I have taught the five year old characters and then the 10 year old characters and then ...Primary secretary duties.
"Secretary" isn't a word that most people would associate with me. I've been known to mistakenly give assignments to people that are far my superior and I'm more likely to ask "why" than to jump when you need something. Sometimes that is a good thing, but as a secretary there needs to be a little more of "jump" talent.
So, here is my ode about the special binder we receive when we get these types of callings.
Ode to the binder,
stacked with paper too tight,
your three rings were filled,
and you were stark plastic white
So, I traded you in,
for a book with some color,
And cleaned it all out,
put flowers on the cover
Secret stickers were stashed,in the plastic back pocket,
To settle anger at friends or,
tears from lost toy rockets
Attendance must be taken,
but the roll is a mess,
One week there are more,
the next week there are less
Rosters and programs,
agendas and birthdays,
how do I update thee,
let's count the ways
Sometimes forgotten,
but never for long,
A trip to the clerk's office,
and you come along
Oh, ode to the binder,
you're not my Blackberry,
but without you on Sunday,
life would be scary
I didn't shed tears,
when I left you tonight,
But, the occasion was sad,
And, had I treated you right?
You have a new home,
a good one at that,
small children, warm hearts ,
and a good Mom and Dad
Good luck to you binder,
New journeys await,
As for me, and myself,
I now await my fate....
What will my next calling be?
Hmmmm.
Best of luck to Erika and to all the little Primary kids. I will miss you.
