Our (nominally Spanish speaking) sister missionaries just came by. (They’ve never been to our house, and although I of course have seen them at Church I’ve never really talked to them before.) I opened the door and welcomed them in, and they got this deer in the headlights look and asked if my wife was home. When I was a missionary that was not a thing, but fortunately for all concerned she was indeed home, just in the other room.
We had a very pleasant conversation for an hour or so. We learned a little about them (both from Utah, which is very common for missionaries here), and I told them a little about us. Eventually, they did their duty and asked if we had any referrals. I frankly told them no, we didn’t, truthfully explaining that, at least within our ward boundaries, pretty much the only people we know and interact with socially are other Mormons. (I admit to not being a great neighbor; I know my neighbors just barely enough to waive when I see them. Actually, now that I think of it, maybe I’m not such a bad neighbor after all; at least I don’t sic the missionaries on them!) A prayer, and they were gone.
I was happy to take an hour out of my evening and have the conversation. I well remember how nice it was to visit with a member family as a port in the storm when you had nothing else meaningful to do (which frankly was the vast majority of the time), so I was pleased to be able to provide such a port for these earnest young women.
What stories do you have to share on this topic, from either the missionary or regular member side?