Who is that at my door?

One summer morning years ago, I was in the back of my parents’ house when I heard a knock at the door.

I ran to the front of the house, where one of my friends was standing outside. She was making a house call, but it wasn’t a social call.

Instead, she and the young man she was with were there to tell me about the virtues of being a Jehovah’s Witness.

Well, he was, anyway. As soon as she realized it was me, she looked like she wanted to get away as soon as possible.

One day, she and I spent almost an entire study hall, alone in the back corner of our high school cafeteria, talking about what it means to be a Jehovah’s Witness.

I told her during the conversation that I wasn’t interested, but I was still curious about a group that was pretty much known for its adherents knocking on doors and not celebrating birthdays or holidays.

It was an interesting conversation, definitely not a pitch of any kind. I might have even started it. Unfortunately, I don’t remember a lot of the details, and we’ve long since gone our separate ways.

But on that morning at my parents’ house, her partner was going to make his pitch, come what may. I think it took me politely saying, “Thank you, but I’m not interested” two or three times before he finally got the hint she and I were sending him and left.

I had no issue with them coming, and while I always would have been polite, I certainly wasn’t going to embarrass my friend. She seemed embarrassed enough as it was.

Nowadays, when people ring my doorbell, it’s usually youth or high school athletes selling something, someone trying to get me to sign their political petition, a delivery guy dropping off a package or an attempt to sell windows.

So when the doorbell rang the other day, the couple adults, one holding an iPad, meant it wasn’t for the kids, but it took a few moments to figure out why they were there, until he said he wanted to talk — and I’m guessing show a video, given the way he was holding the iPad — about Jehovah’s Witnesses.

I, again politely, told him I wasn’t interested.

They went on their way.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s