My Helper Maura

Last weekend was a stressful and busy weekend for me. My activities centered on my church, East Weymouth Congregational. Saturday was our annual Christmas fair. The fair features a craft tables, raffles, a silent auction, home baked goodies and a snack bar featuring my own famous chili. It’s my mom’s recipe and I’m going to teach Maura how to make it soon, passing it down to a third generation of the family. As a member of the Stewardship Committee I helped plan the fair and, barring serious injury or death, I had to be there. My job was selling raffle tickets.

Friday was set up day, though I’ll admit there was little to do. The heavy work had already been done on Thursday night and no one had let me know so I wasn’t there to help. There were a few little things that still needed doing. I helped label the raffle cans and collected the gift certificates we were offering as prizes to hold until the morning. I’d brought Maura along because it was Friday afternoon after school and I had no place else to leave her. She enthusiastically helped with the decoration, helping to stick paper gingerbread men and holly leaves about to give the hall a festive look. Maura did more work on Friday than I did.

I know I can always count on Maura to work hard at a task if she is enjoying it. Given a chance to help decorate or set up for a fun event she’ll pitch right in and work with a smile. It’s not always that easy to get her to help out at home or do chores that have less appeal. She’s long been responsible for putting away her things in her room and in her corner of the living room and recently we’ve given her a few more chores. It usually takes a few reminders and occasionally a threat to withhold her allowance before she’ll do them. I’ll admit we haven’t given her pleasant things to do. She empties the dishwasher, which must seem like busy work, and cleans out the cat boxes. No one enjoys doing that. She’ll avoid both jobs unless pressed.

I can’t blame Maura too much for shirking on her chores. I’m not very good at remembering to do some of mine either, and for the same reasons. The dish washer get loaded and run, unless I’m very busy, and I get dinner made most days (once and a while I leave it for Jennifer). It can be weeks before I get around to mowing the lawn; I don’t need much of an excuse to put it off. Maura, I’m afraid, takes after me.