I was asked to speak in Young Women’s a while back. I was supposed to get the graduating seniors excited about joining the Relief Society. I was supposed to be an ambassador from the Relief Society, reaching out to these young sisters in the gospel.
They probably shouldn’t have picked me.
I went. Well, technically, Morivella went. I was just channeling her. And we had a pretty rockin’ good time at the expense of all those hand-crocheted handbags out there in the world.
Because really, shouldn’t women know by now that purple and red never, ever, ever match? And shouldn’t women know that you can’t get to Heaven by making just one extra casserole?
Well, I told true.
I told those girls that they were going to have to buckle down and learn how to can, quilt, and knit, just like every good Mormon woman should. I told them that they would learn how to properly decorate a table for virtually any foreseeable event (I mean, there are subtle complexities to table decorating for such days as Arbor Day, Earth Day, Veterans Day, etc. You see my point here!).
Those girls needed to have the bald-faced truth told to them. I told them straight up. “We need you girls! We desperately need you. We need someone to remind us that we haven’t been 90 forever. We need to be reminded that we too were once 18. We too once had dreams. We too once had boobs that didn’t touch our navel.”
Those girls also had to hear it all about how much they needed us. Oh, yes. They need us.
We women, we’re a cagey lot. We’ve got all sorts of skills-for-sharing. We need an outlet for all this crocheting madness going on in our heads. We need to know that someone, someday will fill our shoes at the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers dinners. We need to know!
So there you have it. I carried my homemade handbag, held together by gold shower curtain rings. I did my Mormon-ly duty.
Those girls are sure to come now.