a Sunday miracle

I know I write about food quite a bit on this blog, but only because it warrants special attention in my life. Many years ago, when I was a proud subscriber to "Seventeen" magazine, I read a quote by Tyra Banks that read, "I eat to live, I don't live to eat." Apparently she was trying to reveal her big diet secrets and convey how she kept her figure as a supermodel. Most 15-year-old girls would have read into this article and thereby developed major body image issues. I however, rather than starving myself, found great sorrow in this philosophy and somewhat pitied poor Tyra. I live my life to the exact opposite of her mantra: I live to eat. Perhaps this attitude explains why I’ve never graced the cover of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition and why I am not the host of “America's Next Top Model” (*side note: this show might be my biggest guilty pleasure in life, I can and will watch it for hours), but I’ve found myself to be an above-average happy person living this way. That being said, I’d like to tell you a little story.

Being a church-goin gal, I’ve sat through many Sunday School and Relief Society lessons in my days. Some of the teachers are good, some not so good, and some are excellent: they bring treats. After sitting through my first two meetings today and listening to my grumbly tummy, I contemplated where I might be able to find some food in the building. After visiting the kitchen and finding nothing, I was left only to hope for a delicious treat in Relief Society. Upon entering the room, I looked for any clues that might hint at possible goodies. Major indicators of RS treats generally include:

-kitchen towels covering small to medium sized humps

-distinct smells (my closest friends will tell you I have the nose of a blood-hound)

-elaborate centerpiece or table displays (usually someone who goes all out, will go ALL OUT, if you know what I mean)

-object lessons (typically the food detracts from, rather than reinforcing, the implied message since most of the partakers develop single-tracked mind aimed solely at obtaining the baked good. As the plate is passed around, people -i.e. ME- are far more concerned with choosing the largest cookie than with the lesson itself. Regardless, I still warmly welcome food/object lessons.

-Holiday Sundays (Christmas, Valentines, etc…)

-teacher of the day: most wards have a token (or two if you’re lucky) treat-maker, and the one Sunday out of the month on which they teach cannot and should not be missed.

After surveying the area, I realized there was an extensive table display with a few Reese’s PB cups here and there. There was also a side table mysteriously covered with a jacket. My initial thought was, “well, something’s better than nothing. I only have one more hour to go until I can go home and eat.” Little did I know that I was about to witness the greatest Relief Society miracle of all time. Two minutes into our lesson on free agency, the teacher uncovered the side table to reveal the following:

-gummy Bears

-M&M’s

-homemade blueberry muffins

-donuts

-Reese’s peanut butter cups

-brownies

-carrot sticks

-snap peas

-cherry tomatos

-peanut M&M’s

-sour gummy worms

-chocolate chip muffins

-peanut butter bars

I thought I was dreaming. Seriously. The added bonus was that there were large quantities of everything listed AND our Relief Society is rather small. Never in my life has such a spread of deliciousness been made available to me during church. This is a day that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Here's the take-home lesson kids: go to all of your church meetings. You will be blessed.