A Figure of Peace & Love (A Day in Little Rock)

She sits quietly rocking her child, a picture of peace and love. She is the most regal figurine in my grandmother’s collection. Perhaps this is why I was always drawn to her and how she came to be mine. The bisque Madonna and child are the first piece of holiday accouterment to appear in my home each Christmas and the last to be carefully boxed and put away, which might explain the mess I’m facing today. It’s time for the holy couple to appear, and they are lost in a pile on my dining room table.

This chaos actually began in September 2006. I walked into the 1920s parlor and faced six immaculately coifed young women. They were seated around a table, leaving the head chair for me. I still don’t know how I was chosen to be there. I didn’t go to “the university” nor was I originally from Little Rock. I didn’t have crazy stories about my fast times at Central High. Yet, there I was with my pink résumé in hand, sitting down to interview for President of The Junior League of Little Rock.

After some gracious bullying by the nominating chair, I had spent the week before the interview developing a vision for the renowned, stalwart women’s organization that has peppered this city with arts, leaders and service. I envisioned the organization to be prominently seen as it is — a place that lifts women to greater service and leadership. I found the same vision brewing inside me for myself.

My interview was at 6 p.m. on a Tuesday. As a self-proclaimed “dark horse,” I did not anticipate the 9:30 p.m. phone call from the entire nominating committee. They extended their offer to place me as President 2008-2009. Humbled, I accepted and was sworn to immediate secrecy; no one was to know until the next general meeting. It’s been one of the few times in my life I’ve kept a secret so tightly.

The next two years were filled with books, conferences, leadership training and “plenaries.” I am still unsure exactly what a plenary is; it just seemed like a regular meeting

to me.

By June 2008, time had arrived to work alongside a brilliant group of young women and put those two years of training into action. When I write the word, “action,” it’s an understatement. My life hit warp speed. I was juggling a new full-time job, a volunteer position, my family, my friends and 1,200 women, all of whom had my e-mail address and phone number. Thanks to many hands on deck, I was able to check-off my to-do lists efficiently and effectively. I was proud of myself for decorating my home for the holiday board dinner. That evening, the Madonna and child watched us as we dined on Italian Chili.

Reaching mid-year meant that it was all downhill — even faster than you can imagine. The glittery, gold branches that were on my mantle in December continued to sparkle until spring, the Madonna and child were placed in their cushioned box and left on my dining room table. Soon the mother and son were covered with piles of cards, magazines and memories I would file once my term ended in May.

It’s nearly November and the pile is still there. My life has returned to a more “normal” pace. To be honest, I’m not sure I like it. I now have a lot more time to reflect on my past service and wonder where I’m going. I ask myself the questions we all ask ourselves. “Was it worth it? Did I make a difference?”

Today I decided to file those cards, letters and memories. Thinking it’s about time for the Madonna and child to make their appearance again this year, I laugh at the pile and think to myself, “Jesus is in there somewhere.”

Soon magazines and paid bills are filed. I move to the next stack to find a small, unopened lavender envelope postmarked June 2009. Breaking the seal, I find the kindest words of gratitude from a young Junior League member whom I’ve never met. My eyes fill with tears as I read, “Thank you for your service. You’ve made a positive difference in tough times…” I found the answers to my earlier questions. I will write these same words to someone else soon; I can think of many who deserve them. Before I even reach for the box containing the Madonna and child, I’ve found peace and love. My holidays have officially begun.