Quotable Clyde

Clyde is a most energetic person on the phone, as in the rest of life. Last night when I called home, he instructed me to keep the call short because he was about to get on the internet. After ten minutes of talking to him, I started to end the conversation. "Where are you going?" he demanded. He thought maybe I was tired of talking to him. So we talked more.

At one point, I asked him, "So, if my suitcase is too big for the storage space in our car [in Norway], will you carry it on your lap for me?" (This was because Thursday night, Craig had told me to be prepared to carry whatever I pack on my lap. This is because my family has a mental image of me packing far more than I need, even though I packed in one suitcase for our last trip overseas; and the trip before that I brought so few clothes that my own mother took me shopping so I would have enough to wear between laundry days.)

"Whatever!" Clyde gasped. Then, after a pause, "Well, maybe."

Clyde is a very kind brother, but this would be extreme kindness, indeed. "What do you mean, 'maybe?!'" I inquired.

"Well, now that I've been to Bible School and am all humble."

Ah, is that how it works? Wish it had worked for me. But Clyde had more to say: "That's what I liked about Indianapolis. After you went there and came back, you were so humble, you let me have anything I wanted." Oh, ho! Really? That had slipped my memory.

"I ruled you with a rod of iron," said he. "Well, except the times you were firmer than ever. Then I didn't like Indianapolis."

It's nice that "Indianapolis" gets the blame for the recent bad things in my life. I do wish that I could get a little credit for the good, which proves that neither Fairwood nor Indianapolis has perfected humility in me. Life does have a way of knocking off sharp edges, though. Shortly before we ended our conversation, Clyde wondered aloud, "We'll see what Bible School has done for me." Yes, Clyde, and we'll both see what the rest of life will do for us.