Chapter 1

I finally feel like talking about being released as Relief Society President. But first I want to record how I came to become Relief Society President of Lacey 4th ward. This is my journaling method right now, so I apologize for the boring aspects of my story, but I don't want to forget. And besides, 'they' keep saying how my great-grandkids will get a kick out of hearing about their great-granny in the olden days.
When the wards that met in the Nisqually chapel outgrew themselves, the boundaries were changed, all the wards shifted, and a new ward was created. There was a special meeting held at the Stake Center where the speculation and rumors would finally be dispelled and the boundaries formally announced. We had in our minds the logical way this would take place, and were pretty satisfied that we would be 'safe' with all our friends sticking together.
After a song and an inspirational message, the screen finally came down and a large map with highlighter boundaries was shown. There was a little nervous chatter and surprised sounds as the whole thing looked quite different than we guessed. Beachcrest and Jubilee were chopped away from each other, and the boundaries on the other side of Martin Way were different too. After the shock of that settled down, the Stake President started announcing temporary callings to help make the transition while the real callings could be organized and set apart. I had a piece of paper and a pencil handy and was furiously taking notes. I remember writing and saying, "Oh, good call. Oh, that's a good choice. Oh, of course." On down the list he went, until President Coppin said, "Vicki Seversike as Relief Society President of Lacey 4th ward." I quit writing and looked at Danny and said, "What? What did he say? Did he say me? Can he do that?" He put his hand on my knee and said, "You'll be fine." I didn't hear much after that.
As the meeting ended and we started to make our way out of the chapel, people were congratulating me, and saying they were happy for me. "No, no, no," I said, "this is just temporary until they find the real one." I was pretty sure this was true, because you don't call a real RS President over the pulpit, right?
Within a week or so, the youth had created a system wherein numbers were assigned to create a short hand to explain where you were from. A "34" was a previous 3rd ward, now 4th ward member. A "46" was an old 4th warder who was now a new 6th ward member, and so on. A little clinical, but efficient.
As I pondered on this calling a hundred things went through my head. What would I do with this brand new group of people who were fragments of different wards? How would we come to know and love each other? What would the personality of this new ward be? Would there be a way to quit being 'them' and 'they' and become 'us'? I decided very quickly that I would use whatever time I had to try to sew these very different fabrics into a new and colorful quilt. I thought that since I only had a little time before they found the real president I had nothing to lose. I also decided that we were going to have some fun while it lasted.
The first Sunday we met there were 8 ladies, and that included the presidency. The ward was so small that almost everyone was needed in Primary. The only sisters we had were the ones with Sunday School callings, who could join us 3rd hour. We played getting to know you games, and all the ice breakers I knew, especially the ones that required you get up and move around. There would be no, "we're on this side and you stay over there" seating arrangements. We laughed. We shared fears, and hopes and dreams. When you got honest, it turned out everyone was nervous, but really had a deep desire to become one. It reminded me a lot of my blended family. Where so many hearts desire to create something good you can hardly fail. And, like my children, who showed Christlike love for their new family and created something amazing, the Relief Society sisters did the same thing. They threw open their hearts and took everyone in. It was beautiful to behold.
There were no manuals, no notebooks, no notes, no nothing. Everything went with the other president to her newly assigned ward. We were feeling our way in the dark. We created everything from scratch. After a while President Coppin said that he'd like to make this calling permanent, and by then I was in love, and though scared to death, was delighted to accept.