Haircutter Connie showed Wednesday to trim the edges for another month. Then the Sage of Juniata Street came and we headed for Dunn Brothers. Life’s richest treasure is a friend, and I am wealthy. Clyde Rogers and I share wide-ranging interests and enjoy one another’s company.
Two hours into our conversation, Clyde’s phone jingled. Pauline? what’s up? Pause. I’m at Dunn’s straightening out Lloyd Mattson. Come join us. Pauline is part of Clyde’s book club. She has been a mutual friend since house church years. She came limping in, recovering from a broken leg suffered when a horse fell on it. Pauline runs a hardscrabble horse farm. We talked for an hour and Clyde and I returned to theology, philosophy, and books for another hour.
Back to the apartment, I took to the lounge chair to chew my cud. You non-farmers can look that up. Pauline stirred bitter-sweet memories: the sad death of North Shore Church; the birth of the house church. I take my place at the wall near the center of the living room. Clyde to my left. He leads worship when I can’t. Pauline sits off to my right with her young niece.
We sing He is Lord; I present a short devotional. Elsie occupies a lounge chair across from me. At share time, she recalls walking across the Northwestern Bible School campus arm in arm with Billy Graham. We have coffee and goodies.
As drive homeward. I caution Elsie, Watch your stories, Honey. You know that Billy Graham tale is not true. She replies, You need therapy! You’re forgetting things.
Smiles and tears–both part of life.
Old Grandpa Lloyd