Like A Ton Of Bricks

I really didn't want to offer baby-sitting as my service for our relief society's service auction held last night.

Obviously, I can do it, but it didn't feel very imaginative, or fun, and...well...I don't actually like baby-sitting.

I didn't want to offer to cook for someone either.

Cleaning their bathroom. Nope.

Running errands. No way.

These were the acts of service that ran through my head when the sign-up sheet came around during church for the Enrichment activity held last night, and none of them felt like gold. Especially when I read some of the other offerings from women in my ward.

A haircut.

FHE kits for a month.

A lesson on making jewelry.

These were only some of the really creative and interesting things to be auctioned off on Wednesday night, so putting down babysitting didn't seem...enough.

So, I stretched. Really stretched. Like pulled-the-taffy-into-a-piece-so-long-that-it-could-only-droop-in-the-middle stretched.

My offering: Helping someone learn any piece of music.

It felt dorky, but I worked it out in my mind to be a good thing. After all, when thinking back on the things I've felt the most helpful with at church, musical things came to mind: the music for the road show, teaching parts for the Stake musical, accompanying various musical numbers, preparing the program for a missionary fireside, playing the organ at a funeral etc., etc., etc.

I reasoned that many people like to sing, or have nice voices, but don't have the confidence or musical training to tackle an unknown piece of music on their own. I can help with that. I can be of service.

However, as soon as the auction started, I felt anxious. I didn't feel a Rudy-esque happy ending coming on. No one really knows me here. I'm just a new girl that has been gone half the time I've been a member of the ward. I felt in my bones that my service wouldn't be a popular item.

Through out the evening, everyone in attendance (except perhaps me) was having a good time. A light dinner of chicken salad with croissants had been prepared and by the time the auction started, sisters were raising paddles and calling out, "200!" "250!" for a massage....a basket of laundry ironed...a dinner date.

Then the auctioneer unpinned my piece of paper from the bulletin board.

"Lucy is offering help to anyone interested in learning a musical number!"

Silence.

"What is it?" someone called from the back.

"Um, Lucy, can you clarify what you're willing to do?" the auctioneer requested.

"Oh...you know. I'll teach somebody the music to anything they're interested in learning. A musical number for church, christmas music, Musical theater. Whatever." I replied with a red face.

"O.K. Let's start the bidding. Learn a musical number for 75 points! 75! Do I have a 75! 75 ladies! C'mon! I need a 75!"

The paddles stayed on the table.

I almost called out, "It's o.k. You can just move on to the next one." but after the umpteenth desperate sounding. "75!" a kind looking woman raised her paddle and the auctioneer quickly called out, "Sold for 75 points!"

And that was that.

I should have offered up baby-sitting. Those offerings were flying off the wall like hotcakes.

Sigh.