My Friend Edwina

And it came to pass that Enoch went forth in the land, among the people, standing upon the hills and the high places, and cried with a loud voice, testifying against their works; and all men were offended because of him.

And they came forth to hear him, upon the high places, saying unto the tent-keepers: Tarry ye here and keep the tents, while we go yonder to behold the seer, for he prophesieth, and there is a strange thing in the land; a wild man hath come among us.

Moses 6:37-38

I can't read that scripture above without thinking about my friend, Edwina Clark. Anyone who is LDS from Katy is familiar with Edwina. I suspect that the mere mention of her name causes a smile or two to break out and a story about Edwina will shortly follow. Everyone has one or two Edwina stories. I imagine that I have more than anyone outside her family, having appointed myself the chronicler of her exploits.

In describing her many adventures I hope you will realize the great love and admiration I had for her. I count many of her daughters and grandchildren as my friends and they all know of my feelings for Edwina. It is because I am confident that they know how I felt about her that I can give the following description:

Pick your metaphor...the cheese slid off her cracker; both oars weren't in the water at the same time, her elevator didn't go all the way to the top floor...any of them are apt descriptions of Edwina Clark. It wasn't just that she always came off as slightly odd, she was the most enthusiastic odd person I had ever met.

Every first Sunday of the month, she was the best entertainment for miles around. She was certain to give her testimony and just as her family would often cringe when she got up to take the podium, I would rub my hands in anticipated glee, wondering just what would come out of that loose canon rolling around on deck.

Although restraints of time and decorum forbid me detailing all of her off the cuff sermons, I will never forget the Sunday she decided we were all a bit too stuffy and insisted that we all sing along with her, "I'm a Little Teapot". The testimony to her persuasiveness was in the former bishop and high councilman in the congregation singing along with her, their left arm forming a handle and their right arm forming a spout.

Once, I was teaching the story of Christ and The Samaritan Woman. In the scriptures, the Samaritan woman asked The Savior, "How is it that thou, being a Jew, askest a drink of me?". I asked the class how the Smaritan woman knew that Christ was a Jew. Nobody seemed to know the answer. After a few seconds of silence, Edwina's hand shot up. It was the only hand up so I HAD to call upon her.

"Yes, Edwina?"

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I can spot a Jew a mile away"

For all of her faults though, Edwina was a fierce missionary. It is no exaggeration to state that you'd have to travel to Salt Lake City and knock on an apostle's door to find a more tireless and enthusiastic herald of the restored gospel. If anyone sat still in Katy Texas for more than a minute and Edwina was nearby, they were invited to a free copy of The Book of Mormon and Edwina's simple testimony of its truthfulness.

Once, she came up to me and asked me if I knew how she might obtain some pass along cards in Spanish. When I asked her why she wanted them, she told me she was taking a vacation in Mexico. When I asked her if she even knew any of the language, she grinned, and in imperfect Spanish (with an atrocious accent), she said, "This is the Book of Mormon; it tells of the restored gospel. If you read it, it will make you happy"

If Edwina went into the hospital, you can be certain that all of her doctors and nurses and even the lady who delivered her breakfast would get a pass along card and a copy of The Book of Mormon.

As Gospel Doctrine teacher, I heard from Edwina many times. Any time I asked a question, her hand would shoot up. If she didn't know the answer, she would guess. I was a great motivation for class participation. If the rest of the class was reticent to participate, they knew I had no qualms whatsoever in calling upon Edwina to pontificate....and Heaven only knows where that will lead us. (there was many a time when I found myself in the middle of a lesson thinking, "we're all going to hell and I'm driving the bus")

Once the lesson was on recieving priesthood blessings. The manual instructed me to ask the class for experiences in recieving annointings and blessings...so I asked the question.

Edwina's hand shot up. I looked around and nobody else felt like joining in so I called upon Edwina and prepared myself for the answer.

"Yes, Edwina?"

"Well, once, one of my dogs got sick so I made the elders give him a blessing"

"How do I salvage this?", I thought.

"Did he get better?"

"Well...he got better for a day or two and then the guy at the filling station shot him"

Not everyone shared my feelings of affection for Edwina and so, after a particularly brutal experience that had just about everyone in the class wanting to die from embarrassment, a group of two or three members in the class came up to me and said they had enough. They wondered if I would join them in a complaint to the bishop asking that Edwina not be allowed to attend and disrupt Gospel Doctrine.

My heart sank. I knew that they were wrong but I didn't know how to argue against them. Edwina had definately crossed the line earlier that day. She was disruptive but she was also innocent. It wasn't her fault. It was just who she was...and I have to admit, the thought of teaching Gospel Doctrine without my friend there filled me with despair.

The delegation before me was indignant, but it was an indignance sung in the key of intolerance. I remembered what The Savior did when he was cornered. There was no dust on the ground in which to draw but there was chalk on the chalkboard.

Picking it up, I marked several lines. I explained to the delegation before me that each of these lines represented one of Edwina's children, their spouses and her grandchildren. Then I marked a few more, representing the number of people of whom I had personal knowledge that had joined the church because of Edwina. A few of those who had converted because of her efforts had served missions. Like I said, I was a big fan of the woman and so I knew the number, over twenty more lines went on the blackboard representing people they had baptized. A few more went up representing children of the people she had helped convert who were born into the church.

By the time I was done marking on the board, over a hundred lines were there, each of them representing a soul who owed their membership in the Kingdom of God to the missionary efforts of this woman they were trying to ban from Gospel Doctrine class.

I looked at the blackboard for a moment and turned back to the delegation, "No", I said. "I don't believe that I will join you in complaining to the bishop"

After I moved up to Wisconsin, I got a call from one of Edwina's daughters telling me she had passed away. It tore at me to not be able to attend my friend's funeral and mourn with her family.

A few months after I got that call, I was reading a blog on the internet. The blogger was ranting about Walmart, especially all of the wierd and strange people that seem to congregate there. There were several comments to the blog, each with a shared experience. The words, "Katy Texas" jumped off the screen and I read one commentor's experience in stopping off at the Katy Walmart during a cross country trip. She left her children and husband in the snack bar and went to buy whatever they had stopped for. She related that, when she went to pick them up after leaving the checkout, she was surprised to find them cornered in a booth with a wild woman talking to them about The Book of Mormon.

I smiled, and then I laughed out loud, and then I laughed out loud through tears of joy and sadness as I said to myself, "I know that wild woman"

Some day, in the not too distant future, I will stand before the judgement bar of Christ. On that day, I shall throw into the balance against my transgressions, that I was a friend of Edwina Clark.

Who knows? It just might be enough to get me in.