Whatever Will Be, Will Be

Hello, it’s Monday.

Do you know what that means? It means the Benefit Auction AND the Primary Program are both over. It also means that I took a 5 1/2 hour nap on Sunday afternoon, briefly interrupted by a pair of Heavenly Angels who delivered unto me the BEST HOMEMADE BREAD I’ve ever had (sorry Mom and Grandma) along with a bottle of pear jam that I am currently hoarding. Despite the Heavenly Angels’ example to share of our goods, I am NOT. That jam, suckahs, is mine.

I want to tell you all about this weekend, but FIRST.
As a follow-up to my last post, you can read all about Laurie’s Adventures in Twilightland HERE. It includes a picture of her with her “Team Edward Rochester” shirt which (based on the positive response) I’m thinking should hereby be marketed. I need a design team, stat!

Next, here’s what he looked like when I was about 4 or 5.

Roughly 15 years after that picture was taken, we got murried.

Wasn’t that fun?
Onto the weekend…

Saturday around noon, I went to the Fire Station and HAD to take a picture of our Hall of Fame. Joseph City has a little Hall of Fame that is displayed on the wall. There’s only one picture missing. It’s of my Grandma. She hated her picture so she took it down before anyone could see it.

My grandma is a classy spit-fire, and we all just adore her… my husband included.

I slowly set up everything in the kitchen. I opened the packages of bottled water, donated by a local dentist.

I opened and stacked the paper goods, donated by a local trucking company (added onto last minute by a local roofing company -thanks again, LuAnne!), and the list goes on and on. By three o’clock, the kitchen was filling up with OVER 60 CROCK-POTS of food, made with love by women all throughout town.
The High School service club stood right by my side, labeling crock pots and organizing everything for the dinner.
One of my favorite pictures of the night was these three boys, handing out bottles of water:

PS: What is happening to high school kids the world over? Isn’t High School supposed to be that terrible awful awkward phase where you take a bunch of dance pictures so you can laugh at yourself 15 years later? All the kids I bumped into last night were utterly lacking in awkwardness. I just want to know why. And when it happened.

The auction items mounted as the day wore on, and by the time the auction started, we had OVER 200 items. We had to start the auction 30 minutes earlier out of necessity.

We had a FULL HOUSE, and the town bought up the loads of auctions items like there was no tomorrow… a loaf of homemade bread went for $80. My husband bought a small pan of homemade fudge for $35. Home decor signs, sock monkeys, fleece horses, lap quilts, gift certificates, trailers of chopped wood… it was almost as if Santa himself came and dumped the contents of his fat, red sack in the middle of the fire house floor!

People came from all over town (and a few from miles around) to participate in the auction.

The Firemen were in charge of the auction, with the Fire Chief acting as the Main Auctioneer. He had men out in the crowd, calling out every time a bid was made. The adrenaline was almost too much for my son to handle, and he was a fit of giggles as the auctioneers hollered out numbers.

About a month ago, a friend asked me what she could do to help. The Fire Chief had told me that quilts generally rake in QUITE a bit, so I told her if she could round up some cash, I could use it to buy material to make a quilt. A few hours after I hung up the phone, she was standing on my porch with $70. I knew that $70 wasn’t enough to make the quilt I had in mind, but it was a GREAT start. I took it to the city with me, telling myself I’d get what I could and figure out the rest later.
As I walked in the fabric store, I saw that flannel was 60% off (AMAZING price!), and the batting and thread were all 50% off. I was able to get EVERYTHING I needed, and when the cashier rang me up, the total came to $70.07. I squealed in excitement. It was one of those little miracles that, when it happens to you, doesn’t feel so little at all.
I took the materials home where one woman cut the pieces into squares (and the batting into squares), and the supplies were delivered all over town to several different women. Friday night (the night before the benefit) I pulled it all together… stitched the pieces into place and trimmed the edging so it would fray:

As I put the finishing touches on the quilt, I hugged it close and confessed to my husband, “I WANT this quilt!”
“Make another one,” he shrugged.
“It won’t be the same!”
“Why not?”
“This quilt,” I explained with far more passion in my voice than one ought to have for a rag quilt, “encompasses the SPIRIT of this TOWN!”
He laughed at me.

But he also bid his little big heart out when that quilt came up for auction.
We did not win the quilt. Try as my husband might -and DID -we didn’t come home with it.
It went for a whopping $385 to a home that will appreciate just how much it’s worth.

My husband, children and I poured ourselves into bed at 10 pm Saturday night. At 6 am, I was up and making treats for the Primary Kids.
As luck would have it, all but 2 of the teacher weren’t able to make it to the Primary Program to help out. I panicked for all of 30 seconds before I realized…

It would be totally fine.

The auction needed to happen.
The quilt needed to be made.
The Program needed to come to pass.

And they all did… in SPITE of all I did to muddle everything up.
If it needs to happen, it will happen… if there’s one thing I’ve learned this weekend: THAT is it.
Whatever will be, will be.

My heart lies with my little town… with the generosity of the people, the spirit of the children, and the love stitched into a miracle quilt.

Someone wrapped their arms around me Saturday night and said, “Think what would have happened if you hadn’t had started all of this.”
I had to laugh, “Someone else would have,” I shrugged.
And isn’t that the wonderful, glorious truth of a small town? It’s a place where the Fire House hosts benefits and The Wall of Fame where grandmothers refuse to let their glory shine. It’s a place where money means nothing and your word means everything. It’s the place country songs are written about.

When it comes to weight, brother we pull our own.
Until we can’t anymore… then we hit our knees and the neighbors come running with their hearts open.

This is where it’s at… this is home.


  1. Wow. That is all I have to say.

    Okay, actually just a couple more things:

    1) You go girl!
    2) I stinkin’ love that town!

  2. Alicia you are AMAZING!! Oh and I’m moving to your town!

  3. First: remind me to hire you when I need nigh-impossible anything done in a hurry.
    Second: I am so proud of you. And your town.
    Third: Thank you for linking me, ya big flatterer.

  4. Yes….it is an amazing town! Althoug I’ll admit that I had my doubts when I first came here. Good job! It was a major success and you worked so hard. By the way…that quilt would match my babies room perfect (those are my favorite colors)and I wish I could have won it! It looks amazing!!!!!!!

  5. I’m so glad that it all worked out (and that you got a nap). Have a fabulous Thanksgiving!

  6. This post made me cry–especially because I know just how much you put into everything that happened this weekend. I’m so glad everything went so well!!

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