Monday September 17th, 1973
This morning Robert, our house helper, came in with his glasses broken and a skinned place on the side of his head. I wrote Gail Farmer, Alan’s girl friend, and sent her a picture of Alan with the bird that he shot. M.G. went into town to see Dr. Mary but she was not in the office. This afternoon Nancy and I went up into the African staff housing to visit some of the women to invite them to come to the women’s meeting tomorrow afternoon. Tonight I ripped Ken’s pants apart that I have been trying to make for they are too large for him now. I hope I can get them to fit.
Robert had evidently been carousing again last night. Either that or he needed some self defense lessons in the worst way.
Mom must have thought that Gail needed some assurance about my brother’s ability to provide for his family. I seem to recall that this particular bird would not have been a toothsome addition to any family table. Its one redeeming factor was that it was rather large. I can’t prove it but this may have precipitated the “Dear Alan” letter.
Mom and Aunt Nancy went out to the highways and byways to invite one and all the celebrations. Another of Mom’s kernels of wisdom surfaces here, don’t forget to share Christ in Jerusalem while you’re headed to the uttermost parts of the earth.
I cannot believe that I was ever too small for any pair of pants! Mom should have just waited for a while and I would have expanded to fit these britches just fine.