Free The Lutheran Ladies' Circle: Plucking One String by Kris Knorr, Barb Froman Page B

you imagine people trying to figure out what to put in a box intermittently marked: Donate and Hygiene?”
    “Or who it was for?” Kay said.
    “Did you,” Allie, the new member, asked, “collect anything in the nameless box?”
    “I got some…” Hettie tried to restrain the laugh percolating up her throat, “feminine hygiene products.” Kay and Nan hooted.
    “And some toilet paper,” Hettie tittered. “And…some paper towels. I can’t figure that one out.” Her face turned red as she pressed her fingertips to her lips.
    “I gave that!” Micki’s mouth puckered in a slight pout. “I thought we were collecting stuff for the ladies’ restrooms.”
    Hettie cleared her throat. “Thank you, Micki. That was nice, and the strangest thing happened to the box.” A giggle leaked between her words. “I found it…I actually didn’t find it.” Her face turned redder and a tear escaped. “Walt found it—” she squeaked, “in the men’s restroom.”
    Squeals and yowls followed, except for Vera. She slowly tapped her agenda with her pencil, waiting for a moment of maturity to dawn. With a voice that could chip ice, she skewered anyone who would give her eye contact. “I am so sorry our December mission project became a joke. That is an important month with so many in need.”
    “Oh, Vera, the weather’s miserable. We all needed a good laugh before getting down to business,” Kay said. The women were blowing their noses, dabbing their eyes with tissues, and trying to look as serious as Vera’s words.
    “Well, Kay,” Vera’s voice carried a sandpaper edge, “since our last mission drive did not meet expectations, I believe you will be doing our next project. I think you have some catching up to do. Can you handle that?”
    Kay frowned and studied Vera, deciding if she’d tossed out a put-down or a dare. Two-word replies flitted through her head. Bite me seemed kinder and more humorous than Stick it . Neither had ever gleaned the positive results she’d hoped but were immensely satisfying to say. After a moment of culling her thoughts, she gave Vera a measured look. “I accept your challenge.” She fanned a fudge-laden hand across the room. “I can see posters and newsletters: Socks for Saints and Sinners!”
    Hettie broke into another giggle.
    “I’m serious,” Kay said, wiping her fingers on a napkin. “Different groups in the church will collect new, unused socks. There’ll be a prize for the group that donates the most. We’ll send the whole shebang to Lutheran Missions.”
    “I never meant for this to be a contest,” Vera said.
    “I’ll bring socks.” Micki wiped her eyes with her fingertips.
    “Fine.” Vera’s voice sounded tired. “Don’t go overboard with it, Kay. Now, as I was saying prior to this laughfest…our fundraiser with the youth—”
    “Oh, we’ll just do it the same way we do youth dinners.” Hettie rubbed a tissue under her nose. “I’ll sell tickets with the kids because I like those teenage boogers. You buy the groceries, Vera, because you like watching the money, and everyone will assemble the sandwiches.”
    “Well, there is the matter of baking the buns.” Vera consulted her list.
    “Buy the buns,” Kay said flatly.
    “Hettie and Merle love to bake, and it’ll save money.” Vera gave Kay a “that’s-that” stare.
    Hettie’s giggles evaporated. Her teacher eyes narrowed as though she’d discovered someone cutting the lunch line. “That’s true, but I don’t remember volunteering myself or my husband to do the cooking.”
    “Well, I like shopping, but I don’t remember saying I would buy all the supplies. This was your plan.”
    “You’re right, Vera. You didn’t. We’ll switch. You bake. I’ll shop with the kids.”
    “Buy the buns,” Kay droned, remembering that the Ladies’ last baking project had yielded little hamburger buns domed so high it required a reticulating jaw to get a mouth around them. “Homemade buns are goofy.