My mom was a pillar of the church. She helped out at every youth function, women's meeting, bazaar or church dinner. At one of these money-making dinners, she was in charge of making the gravy. Seeing a brown sack of flour on the shelf above the church stove, she began to thicken the gravy. She added more and more flour, but the gravy just wouldn't get thick. People were waiting in line and so finally she decided to serve the gravy as it was. Imagine her horror about 10 minutes and 25 people later, when she discovered that the "flour" was actually plaster of Paris for a Bible school project. She was beside herself thinking that she had poisoned half of our tiny town. However a quick call to the local physician, assured her that their stomachs would not be permanently set into a plaster cast--In fact he got quite a chuckle out of it--but from that day on my mother always was careful to avoid anything that came in a plain brown sack.