I was sitting in a circle of women and we each had a question to answer. My question, typed on a strip of paper was, “Name one thing you do well.” We were at a get-to-know-you Relief Society Meeting and the object was to answer the question (not mentioned but kind of implied to answer truthfully). I happened to be the second to last person in the circle so I had plenty of time to think. I needed more time. I couldn’t think of one single thing. This is a relatively new problem for me. I used to be able to divulge my many virtues at the drop of a hat. But alas, my cockiness has been knocked down a few degrees.
I tried covering up my insecurity with a joke about my ninja skills. Lighthearted jokes to avoid answering a question: definitely not the answer. What’s worse than using humor to be evasive? The joke falling flat and receiving a roomful of questioning stares.
The ironic thing about this scenario is the fact I just emailed our camp director with several hidden talents our girls have. I tried thinking of something on the list I could steal use but nada.
I always wanted a hidden talent. Something that I could whip out for special occasions and wow the crowd and receive accolades for. I admit I suffer from Middle Child Syndrome. I need attention!
There was always one talent I wanted specifically. I wanted to be a Sister Mary Robert from Sister Act. Quiet Sister Mary Robert with the powerful voice when she sings. I could totally relate. Except for the fact I can’t sing a lick. Click on this link to see my favorite scene. Rock that hymn, Mary Robert! (A side note, I like how surprised Sister Mary Lazurus looks. Didn’t she ever attend the practices?)
Meanwhile, I have come to accept the fact that singing will never be my hidden talent. A couple of instances drove this point home. When I was in Young Women as a teenager, I happened to be in with a talented lot. We were asked to sing at many different venues. When I say “we,” I mean “them.” We were practicing a number for one of our requests and my friend asked me if I was a soprano or alto. A so-piano or altoid? I shrugged my shoulders.
“Why don’t you come and sing with us altos,” she said tactfully. I joined the altos even though I sang so soft and high only a dog could hear me. Sorry dogs.
Another time happened years later. I had just moved to Denver and found a place I could afford. Which translates to a kind of scary place. The walls were thin and I could hear everything my neighbors did. I think their favorite pastime was arguing. The bad vibes seemed to ooze through the wall and I felt uncomfortable. Years ago, I learned a lesson about singing hymns to feel the Spirit. So I sang. For 30 minutes or an hour I have no idea. I laid on my dad’s Navy cot (I was too poor to buy a bed) and sang all of my favorite hymns.
When I finished, the apartment was quiet and my voice was hoarse. I could almost hear the angels say, “Oh, there’s gotta be a better way for this girl to feel the Spirit.” Singing is not my hidden talent and I will never be Sister Mary Robert.
After reflecting on this question for over a week though I now have an answer. I am the original IMDB. Any question about a movie or actor and I used to be able to rattle off an answer. It didn’t really wow the crowd in a showboaty type of way but it did provide plenty of, “Huh,” moments. But as I get older my memory is getting harder to start up and with the advent of the actual IMDB my abilities have been supplanted. My hidden talent is no longer needed. Dang. Back to the drawing board.
Originally posted May 18, 2012