Yesterday started out as a calm day. I arose early for my last day of seminary this semester, eager for my Christmas lesson and just as eager to put seminary away for the next few days while I focused on Christmas. I had a Christmas to-do list a mile long and couldn’t wait to start checking off the items on the list.
I hurried home from seminary and listened to phone messages. First message-- “I was just calling to remind you that you are bringing dessert tonight to the Relief Society meeting.” When did I sign up for that? Well, no matter. I added “make dessert” to my list of things to do. I also had a message asking to borrow some table cloths for a funeral on Saturday, so I added, "find table cloths in storage and wash" to the list--that list I was going to tackle right after I ran a gift down to a friend who was leaving town.
On the way to my friend’s house I visited with another friend. The Relief Society dinner was at her house and her assignment was rolls. She was way behind in her house cleaning and decorating as she had spent a few days helping another sister in the ward sew table cloths for her daughter’s wedding and now didn’t know how she would also find the time to make the rolls. So, I told her I could make them for her . . . and added “make rolls” to my list.
I decided to hurry and get the rolls out of the way and then I could start on my list. I got out all the ingredients, mixed up the dough and proudly set it on the counter to rise. Done! And in record time! I glanced over at the vast array of dirty dishes left behind, debating if I should wash them now or save them for later, when I saw, right there in the middle of the mess, the yeast. The very yeast that should have been mixed into the dough. Okay, deep breath. It will be all right. I will just knead the yeast into the dough mixture and pray for it to rise.
But an hour later the dough was still sitting there in its original lump.
With thoughts of “will anyone really notice if I just BUY the rolls?” running through my head, I got out all the ingredients and once again mixed them into dough, this time being careful to add the yeast.
Just then the phone rang. It was a lady in our stake calling to tell me that a son of a friend of mine was being rushed to the hospital. My friend was on her way to be with him and had asked that I come as well.
I looked at the rolls and wondered what I would do with them now. My daughter also needed a ride to basketball practice and I knew I needed to hurry to the hospital.
I quickly shaped the rolls into balls and placed them on cookie sheets (without letting the dough initially rise) I told my daughter she was going to practice early, and then called my friend Lisa. Lisa is someone you can always turn to in an emergency and I had an emergency now. I would take the rolls to her house so she could “roll-sit” them for me, and if they got ready to bake before I returned, she would bake them as well.
My only mistake was setting the pans in the back seat—on a slant, so when we arrived at Lisa’s all the rolls had slid to one side of the pan and were scrunched up next to each other. I left Lisa to care for the rolls and headed to the hospital. . .