Not surprisingly, Curtis didn't have a lot to say about his baptism.
He met with the bishop about a month ago for his baptismal interview. He managed to eek out a few one-word responses and three minutes later we were on our way back home.
We went to his "Eight is Great" baptismal preview two weeks ago and his only questions were about whether or not his underwear was going to get wet.
Earlier this week, we were at the stake center helping the bishopric counselor set up for the baptism. On our way out the door he said, "See you on Saturday, Curtis!"
Curtis turned to me and said, "What's Saturday?"
"Your baptism."
"Oh, yeah. Right."
But when the big day arrived, he got right down to business. He marched in, picked out a jumpsuit, and got changed.
He sat straight-faced through the talks and then, when it was his turn, stepped into the font. Less than a minute later, he was baptized and we were back in the dressing room, sopping wet.
He was stoic through the rest of the program and his confirmation. But that doesn't mean there was no emotion.
While Curtis and I were in the dressing room after the baptism, he leaned into me, which is his way of giving—or at least receiving—a hug. I squeezed him tight and said, "I love you, buddy."
It was a good day.
It was a good day.
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