Sunday, March 21, 2010

I Am My Father's Daughter

Some names and addresses have been changed to protect the innocent.

Some people have a real inability to remember names and faces. My father and I fit in that category.

My Dad sold life and health insurance. He had a policyholder by the name of Mr. Small. Dad could not remember Mr. Small's name to save him. To make matters worse, Mr. Small was Dad's banker. (Younger generation: People used to have personal bankers in the bank who they regularly dealt with regarding personal or business loans.) My sister, Cheri, was in college and learned all these tricks to remember things. She told Dad that when he saw Mr. Small, he should think about Mr. Small as a banker, and the smallest denomination of money is a penny. You guessed it, Dad walked up to Mr. Small in the grocery store and said, "Hello, Mr. Penny."

The last three years as Relief Society President, I've tried everything imaginable to remember names and faces. Nothing has worked. Recently, however, I discovered that when I see a sister I get a picture of her address in my head. I've been using that to my advantage. Such as: Gray-haired lady with big glasses = 12 Market Street. 12 Market Street = Sister Green. It has been working rather nicely--until this morning. I walked up to this little lady (and I know her name as well as my own--but it just didn't come to me) and asked her to give the closing prayer. Then I pictured her address--20 Elm Street. 20 Elm Street = Sister Black. I wrote on my cheat sheet: Closing prayer, Sister Black.

At the end of the meeting, I announced that the closing hymn would be hymn 139, and the closing prayer would be given by Sister Black. There was a disturbance, and another sister explained to me that it was not Sister Black, but Sister Brown. You see, Sister Brown used to live at 20 Elm Street and was Sister Black's roommate. Sister Brown recently moved to her own apartment. Thus Sister Black = 12 Market Street, and Sister Brown = 10 Huntington Place. After the meeting, I apologized to Sister Brown, and she graciously accepted my apology--but when I explained the mistake, she looked at me like I was a total nut case. Hmmm. I guess I am at that!


  1. For years I wrote the names of new people in the front of my Relief Society manual, along with a brief description. (Husband looks like an owl, or daughter has red sparkly shoes.) I've been at a loss, however, since they stopped teaching out of the manual every week! Now I just pretend I'm old enough to have Alzheimer's. ;)

  2. LOL! Apparently, you are also your father's daughter!