The Scariest Experience Part Two

Read the first part here, if you missed it.

Okay...where was I? Oh yes, shaking with tremendous nervousness...

Before I get too far into the story, here's one other thing you should know about me: I hate door-to-door solicitations. I have three reasons 1) I've been scammed twice 2) I have a really hard time saying no to anything and 3) I am so completely paranoid of anyone I don't know. I used to have a "No Solicitors" sign by the front door but it was removed and hidden in the bushes, by a salesman, I'm guessing. And anyone with small children will tell you just how hard it is to not answer the door, once the kids have heard it. They going running to the door, yelling for me at the top of their lungs, and will frequently hold conversations with the visitor through the door.

It was a typical evening, not at all dark and stormy, though it was rather chilly. I'm getting dinner ready and the doorbell rings.

*Groan*

It's prime time for solicitors. Sure enough, standing on the front step is a young man wearing a jacket with the name of our phone company. But he doesn't want to sell me anything, no ma'am. He just wants to make sure we are getting the most benefits with our current package. I play the "naive lil' housewife" card and say I know nothing about our phone but if he'd like to talk to my husband, I expect him home shortly. He promises to return and leaves. I think nothing of it and head back to the kitchen.

Two hours later, doorbell. I was in the middle of making dessert so the Man answers. It's the phone company rep again. The Man goes outside to talk to him and I get back to making my caloric overload. It's been nearly half an hour when the Man comes back inside. He's going to make some changes to the phone. I insist that he invite the guy in because it's nearly freezing outside. He does and soon we are all seated at the kitchen table with plates of warm cinnamon braid and milk. As he reworks our phone plan, he casually makes remarks about how he likes the idea of Family Home Evening (our FHE assignment board hangs right there) and asks what we do during them. We chat a little about family and such. He is a long way from home (a Texan, no less!) and too young to have a family of his own.

The phone changes are made, paperwork is signed and yet, he stays. Maybe it was my cinnamon braid or maybe it was the falling temperature outside or maybe it was the constant flow of questions he had about the Church, families, Jesus Christ and prophets. I tried to answer without preaching, just stating our beliefs. Of course, I'm getting nervous, so I'm stammering and shaking a little, the Man fills in as necessary. Why am I getting nervous? It's just a conversation! But I know why...because there's a warm spot growing in my gut. I can feel the Spirit in the room. Even the kids are behaving. And I can't get the thought of that lonely Book of Mormon out of my head.

At one point, after answering questions about the Book of Mormon's origins, I ask if he has read it. He says no, he doesn't have one.

"Would you like one?" and there it is...the moment of truth.

"Yes," he replies with a smile.

A moment later, I hand him the copy from the dresser. He smiles and thanks me. He holds it for a little longer, looking at the cover, then he puts it away and asks how he can find a chapel closest to where he lives.

After he leaves, I begin to doubt. Was it real? Was he sincere? Is it some contest he and his roommate are having, see how many Books of Mormon they can get while here in Utah? But he was the one asking the questions, not me. He continued the conversation after dessert was finished. And I cannot deny that the Spirit was present.

I wish I had a happy ending. I wish I could tell you that we just received his baptism announcement or have seen him at church. But the truth is, we never heard from him again. I don't know if he is back in Texas, if he read the Book or if he even remembers our discussion. So I keep him in my prayers and continue making my cinnamon braid, whether or not it converts strangers.

One Book down. One to go...