P is for Power Trip
The summer I lived in the French House, I was called to be the Relief Society Music Chair. My job was to find someone to play and lead the music every week, and to pick the hymns.
The calling also involved attending Relief Society Board (Bored) Meeting, even though I was on a committee of one, and thus didn’t really have anyone to meet with or anything to discuss. At our first meeting of the semester, the Relief Society President decided that we should go around the circle and introduce ourselves by saying what our calling was and what we liked about it.
The first girl introduced herself as a Relief Society teacher, and spoke a few tearful words about what a wonderful calling it was. The second girl introduced herself as a Visiting Teaching supervisor, and how happy she was to be involved with this institution. The third girl was another teacher who also felt quite blessed to be serving in that capacity at that time. After a few more similar repetitions, it was my turn, and I decided to liven things up a bit.
“I’m [Katya],” I said, “and I’m the Relief Society Music Chair. What I like about my calling is the feeling of POWER. Every week, you HAVE to sing the hymns that I CHOOSE.”
This statement was met by profound silence, and at least one or two frightened stares, but certainly no laughter. (I never did make a friend in that group.)
E. was one of the girls in that meeting. (I forget if she was a Visiting Teaching supervisor or a Relief Society teacher, but either way it was the most important thing, ever, and she felt very blessed to be able to contribute in some way.) She also had a German class with A., my cousin. One day, before class got started, the class somehow got on to the topic of people who get a power trip from their callings.
During a lull in the conversation, E. spoke up: “You know who really gets a power trip from her calling? [Katya] does.”
A. laughed. (I had told her the story.) “No, she doesn’t.”
“No,” E. insisted, “I think she does.”
A. now became a bit more concerned. “No, really. She doesn’t. She’s not like that at all.”
“No,” E. said quietly but firmly, “I’m pretty sure she does.”
A. never convinced her otherwise.