The day before yesterday, I got a visit from some Mormons. Latter Day Saints. You get the idea.
It’s not the first time they’ve visited. Of course, sometimes I get them mixed up with Jehovah’s Witnesses, but you don’t need to know that.
Two young men, at the most 21 years old, stood at my door. Walking around in the damp, freezing fog takes dedication. Wearing a tie in Shelton outside of a church or a performance of some kind pretty much labels you as an undertaker or a missionary.
Elder #1, who was young enough to be my son, greeted me. He was shorter, only a little taller than me. He had blue eyes and freckles. Perhaps he was the “elder” elder of the two.
He could tell by my face that I was uninterested. It put him off.
“We’re from the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints”, he started off. As if I couldn’t tell by the name tags.
“Hello”, I said.
‘So…have you heard of us?”
Why yes! Yes, I have.
“Have you been visited before?”
Yes on that, too! It’s been awhile, but yes. Several times in fact.
“Do you…” he paused, trying to read my face as if I were a human Magic 8 ball. “Attend church somewhere?”
Yep! Three for three. I told him we got to Gateway, across the railroad tracks. People seem to understand that sort of direction. I’m all about landmarks.
“You’re welcome to visit,” I said, encouragingly, putting the shoe on the other foot.
“Well, okay.” He didn’t seem interested. Pity.
“We’re Spirit-filled Christians”, I tried to explain. He obviously had no idea what I was talking about. Christianese, meet Mormonese.
“But thanks!” I finished, trying to be nice.
“Oh. Is there anything we can do for you today?” he queried.
Now that, my blogisphere buddies, is a conundrum. They could…wash my windows. Or teach me the macarena. Oh! I know. They could read some of the classics I’ve been too busy or uninterested in reading for myself, then report back – Silas Marner, Don Quixote, Ivanhoe, anything by Jules Verne.
But it didn’t seem fair to tie up such nice young men with my paltry chores.
“No”, I replied.
And we wished each other well as they continued on to make the rounds in the neighborhood. I have to admit a certain amount of respect for them as well as Jehovah’s Witnesses. I have friends who are Mormon, after all. I don’t share their beliefs; yet they still proselytize door-to-door in this day and age, putting up with people’s ridicule and bad attitudes. I know I don’t do that! I’m sure, in this community filled with retired folks, they get asked to do heinous tasks the elderly simply can’t do themselves. That mien of servanthood is admirable.
Jonathon says I should have invited them in to debate politics. Maybe next time.