CIRCLE OF SISTERS

By Joni Hilton

How many of you have felt trapped in a late-running meeting, when you have children to pick up? This frustration is expressed by this week’s letter, from a sister whose patience wears thin every week in a perpetually too-long Relief Society class:

Dear Joni: The three hour block program in our ward seems to be a 'suggestion only'. Relief Society routinely goes over about 5-10 minutes! At about 5 minutes after the hour we begin to sing a 4-verse song and then have a closing prayer. The Relief Society President seems oblivious to the fact that it is her responsibility to see that the meeting ends on time. It is very hard to stay attentive when one is a mother of young children. I know it is also hard on the nursery leaders and Junior Primary teachers to have to wait 15 minutes after the meeting for the children to be picked up. I wonder if this a problem everywhere or just in my ward? No Name Please

Dear Sister,

It isn’t just your ward-- this problem crops up in many other church classes around the world. I recall being in such a class when the irate Primary President literally shoved the “not picked up” kids through the Relief Society room door for their mothers to collect. She didn’t care if it was during the closing song, prayer, or whatever.

I also know mothers who simply got up and walked out (sighing and rolling their eyes) when the clock struck twelve, sending a message to the Relief Society presidency, that they were picking up their kids on time, regardless of the planning problems of the RS class.

Both of these methods probably did get the attention of the Relief Society President, but neither sounds like something the Savior would do. Whatever happened to talking? I have a theory that so many of us were raised in a society that told us never to confront anyone, and always to be demure, keep the peace, etc., that we are now afraid to simply have a non-combustible chat with a person. As a result, you get sisters stomping out, pouting, huffing and puffing, but not really blowing down any houses.

The first step should be to take the RS president aside, and explain the situation. If she continues to allow the meeting to run late, then of course you’ll have to step out quietly and gather your children. But it should be done with sympathy for the RS president, not exasperation. You can be firm without being hostile. After all, she is learning, too. And maybe she is afraid to speak up (maybe the chorister gives her grief when cut short), or maybe she doesn’t understand that Primary people are waiting and cannot leave until each child is picked up.

A good plan is for teachers to wrap up the lesson at five minutes before closing time. If they don’t, the RS president needs to give them a signal. This can even be done with humor and kindness, but it must be done. Most songs run 3 minutes, leaving plenty of time for a closing prayer before the end of the hour. The Spirit will be felt far more, and sisters will gain more from the lessons if their attention is not divided between the lessons and worrying about getting over to Primary in time.

As for the Primary presidency still watching over little ones as the minutes tick by, here’s my advice: Pretend your calling lasts an extra few minutes each Sunday. Figure you’re going to get out a little later, and use this opportunity to show even more love to the individual kids we get so little one-on-one time with. I’ve been in that position, and felt myself getting irritated with a mother who simply couldn’t get down the hallway without stopping to chat with each person, and I finally realized that just maybe, that socialization is what kept her coming to church. When I changed my attitude, that I was voluntarily helping, instead of being held hostage, I enjoyed that “after Primary” time. And my own starving kids learned to think beyond their impatience to get home, and to realize that five or ten minutes aren't going to kill them.

Punctuality is a virtue, and like other forms of etiquette, keeps us from inconveniencing others. But it is hard-learned for some, and that’s when we need to exercise charity and flexibility. And above all, talk it over. Maybe you can share ideas for solving the problem, that may seem obvious to you, but might not have occurred to the new gal in town.

Readers, what are your thoughts? How have you dealt with similar situations in your own wards.

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I have four hilarious children and an even more hilarious husband, Bob, whose comments frequently work their way into my published material (hey, somebody should have the presence to make a profit here).

I’ve served as Ward Relief Society president, first counselor in a Stake Relief Society presidency, seminary teacher, and a zillion other callings that, if added properly, will tell you I’m 46. I have a regional calling at present, working with the media. I am also blessed to be one of the writers for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s “Music and the Spoken Word.”

If you’re familiar with my LDS comedy novels (“As the Ward Turns,” etc.) then you’ve probably figured out that I was raised on a steady diet of sugar and humor. But I don’t fault my parents-- it was all I would eat.

I hosted a TV talk show in Los Angeles, and together Bob and I hosted a syndicated TV family show. (Bob’s background is a lot more interesting-- he’s a former game show host, and has worked for the big networks, anchored TV news, and has a new book out about activities to do with your kids, called “Weekend Dad.”)

But back to me. If I have any spare time at all, I make up recipes and win contests with them. It’s true, and nobody is more amazed than I. Here’s what I do: I think up a crazy recipe, mail it in, and then, if it wins, I cook it. All I know is that it seems to be working and we’ve won trips to France, Hawaii, Florida, New York, and now a cruise to the Caribbean. You can’t attend 46 years of ward dinners and not learn something.

Our youngest, Nicole, is our only daughter, and I recently wrote about her medical challenges in the Feb. 1 issue of Woman’s Day. Oh, that’s another thing-- I frequently write for various national women’s magazines. Another recent piece of mine was in Family Circle last summer, about my racing the family mini-van at the local speedway. (I am nothing if not a cool Mormon mama). I have no idea how many books I’ve written, but I’ve sold fourteen.

My medication of choice is the gospel. I would be lost without it, and I love it with every temple-going, Institute-attending fiber of my being. The Lord is my greatest friend, my Savior in this life and the next. I wish every person I meet would join the church, and, frankly, it ticks me off a little bit when they don’t. But, like all women, I try not to take it personally. Onward and upward, Sisters. Be sure to wear thick socks-- the refiner’s fire is definitely hot.

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