Frogs

What would you do?

Last night I attended a Stake Youth Fireside. It was wonderful. Our newly-called Stake Patriarch and his wife spoke. She was witty and charming and he was sound and valiant.

She had us laughing as she introduced the two of them. She was an able and gifted guide as she took us on a tour of their lives. She introduced us to the small one room church building she went to as a girl. So small the restroom facility was on the podium- back in a small room in the corner- behind the speakers. She took us to Korea, where they spent two years as missionaries. She told of their dedicated service to the Lord.

Truly, behind every good man stands a good woman. Except, I'm pretty sure that she doesn't usually stand behind- probably at his side.

He then took the stand and presented the youth with a solid explanation of their responsibilities as youth of the noble birthright. And then he expounded upon the wonder of patriarchal blessings. Except he had a small scratchy frog in his throat that caused him to have to stop every so often to try and clear it. And successful he was not.

I thought that perhaps he needed a drink of water. And so did the friend I was sitting by. So she offered to go and get the drink if I would walk up the aisle to present it to him. That kind of made me a little nervous, because believe it or not, I was seated on the back row- hardly ever happens. And it is a long walk from the back row to the front of the chapel when you are carrying a cup of water for the speaker.

You may be asking yourself, "Why get involved? Look the other way!"

I'll tell you why. I am the first counselor in our Stake Young Women Presidency. And the friend is the second counselor. So I think we felt a certain amount of responsibility for the well-being of the speaker- especially since we were in charge of the fireside this time.

So, in perfect synchronization, we arose and exited the chapel to fetch a cup of water for the Stake Patriarch. She to fill and I to deliver. And we laughed at ourselves on the way to the kitchen. And she was glad to turn the cup over to me once her part of the task was completed.

As we entered the chapel, I surveyed the pulpit- trying to ascertain the perfect method of delivery. And I realized that there really wasn't a perfect method. I just had to march up the aisle, hope the water didn't slosh on the congregation, and set the cup down just so- making sure it didn't spill on the open laptop that provided the power point presentation. Because that would have been embarrassing- frying a laptop right in the middle of the presentation.

As I walked up the aisle, I heard him comment that he was having problems speaking for some reason. Of course, I immediately mentally patted myself and my friend on the backs for bringing in the water. I handed it up to him and he commented that perhaps that would help.

I turned around and made my way to my seat. And he continued with his talk. It was lovely.

But, he never drank the water. Not one sip.

I'm pretty sure that once that water was delivered, people were wondering if he would drink it. And he didn't.

And as we exited the chapel during the closing song to prepare the refreshments, my friend and I again laughed as we walked down the hall to the kitchen, commenting about the water. And then we pulled the popsicles out of the freezer and set them out for the hungry youth.

Among the frozen treats was a yummy concoction christened Frog Spit. It is a lemon lime sherbet mixed with vanilla ice cream on a stick.

The Patriarch chose one of those.

I can imagine that it hit the spot.

P.S. Tune In Tuesday for another guest post from a brilliant blogger!