Mac and Cheese

Well, church today was eye-opening. First of all, I was having a miserable day, Jeff was having a miserable day, and Ariana was having a miserable day. And we were all dragging each other down further. So Jeff drove to church by himself with Ariana to give the opening prayer. When he came back to watch Ariana at home (still sick), I drove to fulfill my calling in primary.
I wasn't much needed, as the other pianist is playing for the primary program, but I felt it was my duty to be there. I also wanted to be an observer. I sat in the back while the primary children sang on the stand and practiced reverence. Then they split up for classes. I had nothing in particular to do while I waited for them to reconvene, so I went and sat on the couch in the foyer.
I tell this long story for this one reason. While I was sitting there, sacrament was about to start in the chapel for another ward. A slightly large middle age woman and her son (preteen? 11 or 12?) came and sat next to me. The woman sat, then told her boy to sit. He said "I want to sit there," pointing to where his mother was. He did not want to sit next to me. I excused this because of his age. He came and sat down anyway. His mother told him he needed to go give an envelope to some sister for some reason. "Will you do it?" he said. His tone was interesting to me. If someone had asked me, I would have said no because of the slight twinge of whine, boredom, and defiance in his voice. No sooner had he asked but she got up, like it was a command, and he scooted into her seat, away from me on the couch. She came back and made him move back over. I stopped paying attention to them.
Suddenly their conversation came back to the forefront of my attention again at the mention of food. Her son must have asked her what food they had been asked to donate for their ward (ours has mac and cheese). "Chili," she said, which is what turned my head because I was hungry, "We got chili. I wish they would give us the easy one for once. The other wards always get the easy assignments." At this point I was working hard to keep my nose glued to my lap and not say anything. My ward had mac and cheese, and while I thought that was so cool, it would have been easier for our family to do chili. I could feel my face turning red. I wanted to say something to her, like "I am sure they wouldn't mind if you brought in mac and cheese either." I kept my mouth sealed shut though, as she continued to complain. "Mac and cheese is so much cheaper. Chili is a dollar and a half for the kind they want. I can barely keep food on the table for you guys, let alone buying chili." They sat there a little longer before the boy whined, "I want to go outside." "We are just waiting to see if they called anyone," she said, and she started in again about how they had requested all these different positions filled a while ago and the ward still had not called anyone. In the chapel, they started singing the hymn. "That sounds awful,"the boy complained, "it always sounds alright when we are in there, but it sounds horrible out here." I could hear the organist straining to get her part right, and I felt bad for her. I could also hear over the rest, a few voices over the rest that were not very pretty. I still didn't like to hear him complaining about the singing of a hymn. He had just dissed at least a hundred people. The prayer was said, and then the announcements started. The woman had turned the speaker up loud. I thought of other Sundays when I had been trying to get Ariana to sleep in the hall because the mothers' lounge was full as usual, and the volume someone had carelessly turned up was bothering my baby. It made me irritated. They announced two callings, neither of which the woman had listed. "Well, let's go. They didn't call anyone," she said very shortly. In the chapel, they started the sacrament hymn. "Oh, that's awful," the boy said again, "it sounds better when we are in there but it sounds bad out here." He got up and they headed for the door. Why they would skip the sacrament I will never know, but I have always thought that part was more important than the announcements. I was glad to see them go and be rid of such a negative spirit. It absolutely astounded me that anyone could carry such a little black rain cloud with them on a leash over their head. I thought of how I had acted earlier that day, and I thanked God that I didn't think I was that bad. I thought back to my reading of proverbs, about the wise accepting rebukes. I hope that if I ever do start to get so negative, cynical, and critical, that one close to me will take me aside and with a gentle had point out my fault, because of their love and care for me. I never want to be like that. So come to me friend, when you think I am being less than what I should, and with a soft spirit rebuke me. I may not listen at once, but I hope to always keep a soft heart and disposition that I may be wise as King Solomon says and receive correction.
I wanted to say something to that woman, to point out that it is not so bad. I wanted to say something to the boy, that maybe if it sounds better in the chapel then he should go in. I know it wouldn't have made a difference. I am not their friend and they would not have listened to my words most likely. A spirit of strife so strong is hard to break or change. I would not want to be their friends with the way they acted today. I not only hope to never hear them or see them again, I most fervently hope to never be like them. It was an eye-opening moment.