When I was living in Moscow, Idaho, attending The University of Idaho, and doing something unproductive in my apartment, I heard a knock on my door. It was B. She was a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and she and her companion were knocking on doors, talking to people about Jesus Christ. Though I'm not entirely interested in joining a religious organization, I do like talking to people about a great many things, including religious beliefs. So, I invited them in, probably a bit too eagerly, so that they may have feared for their lives. I didn't assault them though, and fortunately, they didn't assault me either. Instead, my wife and I talked with them, and we kept talking with them, even when them changed from B and her companion to B and her new companion.
Eventually, B's 18-month church mission came to an end. She left Moscow, went back to her "real" life, and then she started living it. Earlier today, her real life included meeting up with me for dinner and talking with ABC 4 News about the experience. I don't know about B, but when I answered that door about six years ago, I certainly didn't think that it would lead to this. Seeing her yesterday really gave me reason and opportunity to ponder how the littlest things can drastically change lives. It's overwhelming, almost, that my today would've been so different had I, instead of answering the door a half decade ago, chosen to hold perfectly still and hope that my would-be visitor would go away. I'm glad that I didn't.