From the Relief Society Magazine, March 1959 –

”Not of This Fold”

by Frances C. Yost

Evelyn Handy’s fingers worked with the ceramics. Carefully she spooned the moistened plaster of Paris into the molds, and watched it take form. It was fun doing things creative, working with her hands. It reminded Evelyn of Relief society work meeting back home in Utah. She missed Relief society more than any one thing since Russell had been transferred and they had come East to live. Sunday wasn’t so bad, they almost always drove the long distance to the nearest latter-day Saint branch and attended meetings. But Evelyn couldn’t get to Relief Society on Tuesdays as she used to do back home.

Evelyn thought of her new friends, Sue Reynolds, for one, who lived close by. She was friendly enough, had invited her over, wanted her to join her own friends, but Evelyn knew they played cards. But she did need friends.

“Ding,” the door bell sang.

“Coming,” Evelyn answered. “Wonder who could be calling at nine a.m.?” she murmured, wiping her hands and hurrying to the door.

“Why, Sue Reynolds, welcome to the Handy manor this bright fall morning.” Evelyn held the door open, and sue whisked in. “I’m making ceramics, you know, figurines.” Evelyn pointed to her work spread out on the dining room table.

“That’s looks fun to do!” Sue sparkled with delight. “Where on earth did you learn how to make these?”

“They taught us back home at …”

“What do you call this figurine?” Sue interrupted, holding up one which Evelyn had completed.

“I call that a Pioneer Madonna,” Evelyn explained. “See, her clothing is simple, and she has a child clinging to her skirts.”

“It’s lovely. I didn’t know people made these. I mean … I thought they were artist sculptured.” She picked up another figurine. “This one is so colorful in its bright yellow dress, and carrying a basket overflowing with bronze flowers. Reminds me of Indian summer. Does this one have a name?”

“I call it Autumn Glory,” Evelyn explained.

“Well named. What’s this little one, an elf?” Sue asked, picking up a third ceramic.

“Well, it would be an elf,” Evelyn laughed, “but I call him a Little Imp. See, he neither sits nor lies, but does a combination of both.”

“Honesty, Eve, have you actually made all these figurines yourself?” Sue Reynolds seemed amazed.

“Yes, they taught us back home at …”

“Tell you what! These things, these figurines you’ve made will make the cleverest prizes for a card game. Your Pioneer Madonna will be first prize; Autumn Glory, second; and the Little Imp will be the consolation prize!” Sue warbled delightedly.

“But I’ve never …” Evelyn started to explain that she didn’t want them used for prizes, that she didn’t play cards, but it was hard to get a word in with Sue Reynolds.

“Evelyn Handy, face the facts. You’re letting yourself rot away here staying home, and not getting out and meeting people. Now I’m taking you in hand and seeing that you know the nicest people in town. Next Tuesday I’ll bring a group of friends here to your home.”

“But …” Evelyn interluded.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Ev. I’ll furnish the refreshments, bring the guests, and all you’ll have to do is furnish the prizes, and you have them already.” Sue rambled on. “Well, I just ran over for a few minutes to put off doing the breakfast dishes a little longer. See you Tuesday at two, and I’ll bring along some other ladies. Time you were worked into society here in the East, Ev.”

Sue was gone.

That same evening Evelyn painted the figurines while Russell read the paper.

“You know, Ev, I sort of envy you. You can keep busy making things, and all I seem to be able to do is read in the evening. It seems sort of like evenings back home when you finished your Relief Society work before turning in.”

“Making these figurines reminds me of work meetings back home too, Russ,” Evelyn felt tears moistening her lashes. She had worried all day about Sue Reynolds’ plans. she did want to make friends, but she didn’t want to lower her standards, even for friends. If she told Russ about it, perhaps he could help her out of her predicament.

Russell Handy looked at his wife; he suspected her loneliness.

“Too bad you have to miss out on so many things like Relief Society, but honestly, Ev, if you hadn’t come with me, been a good sport about leaving your home, the Church headquarters, and your friends, well, I just couldn’t have made out on this new job. What are you making the figurines for, Ev?”

“Sue Reynolds came over this morning, and she’s inviting a group of ladies here Tuesday afternoon, and …”

Russ almost smirked. “I asked what you’re going to do with the figurines. You talk in circles, Ev.”

“Well, Sue, she’s sort of forward, or domineering or something, Russ. She wants the figurines for prizes …”

“Just a bunch of sheep with no leader.” Russell stood up and yawned. “Well, I guess I’ll turn in.” He put the paper aside and left the room.

Alone in the dining room, Evelyn realized the problem was hers alone, and hers to work out. She thought, it would have been so much easier if Russell had said, “Make an excuse, honey,” or “go ahead and spend an afternoon with the girls.” But he hadn’t said anything. Yes, he had muttered something. What was it? “A bunch of sheep with no leader.” What had he meant?

Evelyn wrestled with her problem as her fingers worked artfully. Surely a card game with only figurines as prizes wouldn’t be too bad.

“Too bad,” Evelyn muttered the words. things were either good or bad. They just couldn’t be half and half.

Evelyn pondered over the words Russell had mumbled as he left the room. the Savior had said something himself about sheep, what was it? “Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold.” Why, these new fr4iends here in the East were no doubt good people, it was just that they were … sort of … not of the fold.

If I could only get to Sister Murray, our dear Relief Society president back home, and tell her my problems, or if I could invite them all to go with me to Relief society, but it’s so far, and the traffic is so congested during the week days.

Tuesday dawned clear, bright, and golden, like an Indian maiden of Indian summertime. Evelyn loved autumn. She took a basket and went into the garden and gathered bronze and yellow chrysanthemums. As she filled her basket she felt like her figurine Autumn Glory. The house must look its liveliest, surely these clean, beautiful flowers would help her see this through. Suddenly Evelyn said a prayer. “Dear Father, help me to … to carry on alone.”

“Ding,” the doorbell sang.

“Coming,” Evelyn replied.

“Well, here we are!” Sue Reynolds chuckled. “Seven of us congregated at my home and came over together.

“Evelyn, I want you to meet Ruth Ellis, the quiet type; Marva Reed, the interesting type; Ginnie Brooks, the talkative one, if I’m not around; Cora Stephens, your neighbor in the next block; Connie Conrad, a friend to everyone; Lydia Walters, a mother to us all, not so much because she is a bit older, but because she is so very wise.”

“I’m glad to meet all of you,” Evelyn said warmly. Inwardly she had dreaded meeting these women, but she liked their appearance. They seemed nice, each one of them. If she could only keep up her courage, carry things through as she had planned.

“Well, where are the card tables?” Sue peered about. “Might as well get started. I’ve already told the girls about the prizes you make, Eve. Oh, look girls, here are the clever figurines,” Sue called joyously, pointing to a small table.

There followed a chatter of admiration.

Finally, Evelyn arose and spoke: “Sisters …” She stopped. why, she shouldn’t have addressed them as sisters. she must apologize … “You do all seem like sisters to me. Back where I come from we have a woman’s organization which meets each week just at this time. We call it the Relief Society. The name implies doing good to others, which we do when there is sickness or need around. but the name means even more, it means self-improvement in so many ways.”

The women were listening. Evelyn found she could modulate her voice. As she continued, her voice held a sacred tone. “We members of the Relief society meet once each week and do things together. One week we study something uplifting, a study of the scriptures. This lesson is called theology. another week we study literature, you know, great writers, and their works. This particular course is much like going back to college. Another week we study family relations or community problems. It helps us to get along with each other, and rear a family pr9operly in these trying times.

“Another week we do things with our hands. We tie quilts for welfare, or quilt lovely ones to sell at the bazaar, or do needlework, or tear carpet rags. Other days we learn to make something decorative or useful for our own homes. I made those twin pictures of the flamingos from sheet copper at Relief Society.” Evelyn nodded at two pictures hanging on her living room wall.

“And this little sewing basket here by my favorite chair, I made it one day at work meeting. the silver tray which holds the figurines was another project which we made at our regular monthly work meeting. And, of course, the figurines which Sue showed you, I learned how to make those, too, at Relief Society.

“I thought you might like to make one of those ceramics today. I have lots of molds and plaster of Paris, and even the paints and glaze you would need. If you would enjoy making these ceramics today, we could do as we do sometimes at Relief Society, and don some old shirts which I have here, to keep our nice dresses protected. how about it? Would you like to do something together like this …?”

Evelyn realized she hadn’t given such a long speech since she gave a lesson back home in Relief Society meeting. she waited, but no one said anything. the women had listened attentively, every one of them, but had they listened with their ears, not their hearts?

Evelyn found herself breathing a little prayer as she stood before these new friends. “Dear Father, help me to turn the hearts of these good … good sisters who are not of the fold …”

The clock ticked away the seconds. It seemed unusually loud. Evelyn had hoped they would ask questions about Relief Society. She guessed she had been presumptive just because she herself had enjoyed Relief Society meetings so much, she had thought everyone would be interested to know about them. She had had the mistaken idea that the women would bubble over with interest at her first mention of it, but this silence, complete silence, except for the clock ticking away the time, stilled Evelyn.

She recalled that the women had been very talkative when they first came. Before she had mentioned Relief Society. They had laughed and joked and talked alla t the same time and now … just silence. They were indicating that they had come for another reason, not to don old shirts and play in clay. She had let them come here to her home expecting something else, but she had meant well … she had tried. Evelyn felt tears accumulating behind her eyelids.

“Of course, if you would rather not,” Evelyn began …

“Wait, Mrs. Handy … Ev …” Lydia Walters spoke. sue had said Lydia Walters was wise. Probably wise in the world’s ways. Evelyn’s heart almost stopped beating, as she waited to hear what Lydia Walters had to say.

“I suggest we make ceramics this afternoon, since you have gone to all the trouble of getting the molds and material. What do you say, girls?” Lydia put the question to the group.

“All right, for a change,” they murmured.

Evelyn’s heart took up its slow, wary bearing. “I’ll get the things.” How strange that her voice should sound so natural when her heart was racing so.

For the next hour Evelyn was as busy as a work meeting leader on work day. Each woman decided on a mold of her choice, and spooned the softened plaster of Paris into the forms. As they worked, they chattered about their work, just as the sisters did back home on work day. it was fun talk, and sounded sweetly familiar to Evelyn. time was completely forgotten, and the clock in the hall could not be heard now.

“How’re you coming with yours, sue? When you’re through with that mold, Ruth, may I use it? Clever, Connie! good work, Cora! My, that’s pretty, Ginnie!”

Later, while the ceramics were setting, Evelyn and Sue served light refreshments.

Then it was that Lydia Walters asked: “how often do you say your Relief society meets?”

“Every Tuesday afternoon,” Evelyn replied.

“And a work meeting similar to what we have had this afternoon is held once each month?” Lydia inquired.

“Yes, once each month. On the second Tuesday,” Evelyn replied.

“But if the women don’t want to wait a whole month, can they finish their work?” Sue Reynolds asked.

“Often a special day is held to finish work, or sometimes it is taken home and finished,” Evelyn explained.

“I have still another question,” Lydia Walters said.

The women became especially quiet and listened. “Do I understand correctly that one can be a member of Relief Society and not be a member of your faith, Evelyn?”

“A Relief Society is always organized under the direction of the mission president, but one need not be a member of our Church,” Evelyn explained.

“Are there dues in Relief society?” Lydia asked.

“Fifty cents a year,” Evelyn said simply.

“So much for so little.” They sighed.

“I want each of you to take home one of my Relief Society Magazines to read. I don’t mind admitting it is my favorite magazine, with stories, poems, recipes, articles, and good reading, besides the lessons for each week.” Evelyn passed out a Magazine to each of the guests.

“Thanks so much,” each one murmured.

The women were leaving now, but they were all taking her hand in friendship and thanking her for the wonderful afternoon.

It was Sue Reynolds who lingered when the others had gone. “Honestly, Evelyn, I’ve never had such a good, interesting afternoon in my life. I’ve always wanted to know how to do things with my hands, but I never thought I could learn, or enjoy it so much. You know, Ev, when you started telling us about your Relief Society, you seemed sort of like an angel standing there, and we all knew you had something we just didn’t have and we wanted it very much. It’s just as if you’d opened up a new world for us.”

It had been a wonderful afternoon, Evelyn knew. She had so much to tell Russ when he came home. Later she must write to the mission president and his wife and invite them to visit their group. Evelyn had a feeling there might be a new Relief Society to be organized.