Last night, we had a church meeting and our ward was changed.
(If you're not a Mormon, let me explain. Our congregations are called wards and they are geographic areas. When our wards become too big, the boundaries are realigned. This is great news because the more the merrier but it is sad news because we love each other and want to be together. Sniff.)
Because of where we live, our family knew that change for us was inevitable. We kind of processed it all week. Mark must have been off being a whirling dervish while we were processing because it hit him all at once during the meeting. He started whispering to me urgently. "What does this mean?" "Do we still have the same bishop?" "What about all my friends in primary?" "What scout troop am I in?" His panic was rising but I sort of wanted to listen to the meeting and, you know, find out where our new ward was so I kept shushing him and promising we'd talk later. I put my arm around him and he was squirming in agitation and said he was going to cry. I told him it was OK to cry but we would talk later.
He didn't cry, but as soon as the meeting was over, Gavin walked to where we were sitting. They gave each other an enthusiastic high five which they often do when they see each other at church and as usual, I reminded them, still Sunday, still in the chapel. They spoke earnestly for awhile, tousled heads together. They were also both wearing identical blue oxford shirts, untucked. Sometimes I wonder if Stephanie would mind giving me Gavin because those two are like brothers and I love them together.
Soon they were on the stand, shaking hands with our suddenly former bishop. He must have pointed them in the direction of our new bishop (someone we don't know) because the next time I looked, they were patiently waiting while he talked to someone else so they could shake hands. I watched with interest while they introduced themselves. (Who knows what else they said.) I saw a smile form on the bishop's face. I saw him bend over to talk to them with sincerity and full attention. I've never met our new bishop, but that moment told me everything I need to know about him. We're going to like him.
I lost track of Mark and Gavin as I milled around, chatting with and hugging some of my former ward members. We promised each other we'd still see each other. (I hope we were right.)
I met up with Mark again at the back of the gym. As we walked out of the building, he told me happily, "I met a new friend from our new ward. He's nine, like me."
I shouldn't be surprised that Mark, who has a large arsenal of swords (that used to be sticks) would slay his dragons so quickly.
Note to self: be more like Mark.
4 comments:
As I read this, I just realized you'll have to sew on new troop numbers on scout shirts. What a pain!
Love this post. I want to be more like Mark too.
NO!!! you can't have Gavin, unless I move in too, he is the only one who still really likes me.
BUT!!! i do love that we live so close, they can play and commiserate together and be sent to play at one anothers' house when needed.
AND!!! that we live so close that it would be very, very difficult to divide us (we would notice and take it personally)
HUGS!!!
What cute kids--introducing themselves around. Mark will always have a friend.
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