SURPRISE! (A birthday story or two)

In honor of my friend Isaac's birthday today (Happy Birthday, Isaac!), I will recount two unforgettable birthdays. First of all, my worst ever birthday was my 30th. We were in the U.S. on furlough. Somehow I had gotten it in my head that a surprise party was in the works. When I was invited to a friend's "supposed" 40th birthday party, I stupidly assumed this was a ruse to get me to my own surprise party. No such deal. In fact, none of the ladies at the luncheon had the slightest clue it was my birthday, too. Not a single "Happy Return of the Day" was offered in my direction. So sad.

Back in Guatemala a couple of years later, I made up for that unhappy day by throwing myself a surprise party! All I wanted was to go out to lunch with some ladies on my birthday. In the weekly missionary newsletter I posted an announcement something like this:

"Surprise party! All ladies are invited to a Dutch-treat luncheon in honor of my birthday. Please meet at such-and-such a place at such-and-such a time, but don't RSVP or it might spoil the surprise." And I signed my name.

Knowing a majority of these ladies to be extreme introverts, I seriously contemplated the possibility of dining alone that day. No one mentioned a word to me about the upcoming party. To my genuine surprise, there must have been close to twenty friends who showed up to help me celebrate. I was stunned. Apparently people admired my spunk. Either that or they didn't want to miss the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to attend a self-hosted surprise party.

With my tale now told for the whole world to know how pathetically self-centered I used to be, I feel compelled to address anyone who might be remotely tempted to follow my zany example. Please take note: make sure you include on the invitation very clearly "NO GIFTS." As far as I know, Miss Manners still has no formal rules of etiquette concerning parties of this nature, but suffice it to say that Webster's now has a new definition for "gauche" with my name on it!

Not only was I forced to keep the presents people brought, the ladies paid for my lunch AND made me keep the change after a generous tip was left. I've lost one of the earrings I shamefacedly bought with those extra quetzales, but I keep the odd one as a reminder of my hilarious moment of combined shame and glory.

Remembering how those precious missionary ladies took time out of their busy lives to share a laugh and bless a desperately socially deprived extrovert who was tied down with four small children under the age of six... warms my heart to this day. I only regret that I don't have a single photo to commemorate the event. Instead I will post a photo of the family from that era.