In Ohio I Learned Nobody's a Stranger

The summer just before my mission, my family took one last epic vacation and toured LDS Church history sites across the northeastern United States. We visited the birthplace of the Prophet Joseph Smith in Vermont; the Sacred Grove in New York; the Priesthood restoration site in Pennsylvania; and Kirtland, Ohio, where the first Latter-day Saint temple was built. I don't remember a more faith-promoting road trip.

The Kirtland temple

I could say a lot about that vacation, but I want to talk about what happened in Ohio.

We rolled into Kirtland on a rainy Saturday evening. It was too late to do much sight-seeing, but there were lots of cars parked at the local LDS chapel. So we stopped in to ask what time Sunday services were . . . and my brother and I ended up getting invited to the youth dance that was going on right then.

Dances were awkward enough back home, where at least we had friends to lollygag with at the punch bowl. But we were thrilled to be included, and we hurried back to our hotel room to clean up and put our best clothes on.

The biggest surprise of the evening, though, wasn't that we got invited to a dance, but that we hardly spent a minute at the punch bowl before the local kids surrounded us. We made quick friends with both the guys and girls, and I had a partner for every slow song. By the end, we felt so at home among the youth in Kirtland that we even stuck around to take down chairs and tables.

Accurate.
Image source: LOLwithMe.org

We felt the same at church the following morning. Everyone went out of their way to come and talk to us. The bishop (leader of the congregation, like a pastor) and his counselors all made sure to greet us personally. Our comments were encouraged in the Sunday School discussion. We were even invited to stick around for ice cream after church.

And we weren't the only visitors to the congregation that day. An elderly couple from Utah and a family from Sweden received the same treatment we did. To the members of the Church in Kirtland, VISITORS WELCOME was more than just a default phrase on the chapel sign. They truly practiced it.

Image credit: The Salt Lake Tribune

Kirtland sees a lot of Mormon vacationers. The people there are used to hosting visitors and never seeing them again. When they welcomed my family and me, they knew we wouldn't be back.

And yet they treated us like we would be around awhile. Like we weren't travelers passing through, but neighbors who had just moved in. Like we belonged in their community, their congregation, their very hearts.

I never did see any of them again. But I still feel their genuine love whenever I remember the short time I got to spend with them. And that's the kind of thing I want to spread.

I understand why "stranger danger" is a thing. I understand that sometimes people hurt each other just because they can. That there are people in the world who take unfair advantage of the smallest acts of kindness. That sometimes reaching out can be a risk.

But what if we acted like everyone we met might stick around awhile in our lives? What if we saw the people we passed by as friends we haven't met? What if, instead of treating each other with suspicion, we tried a little love and generosity?

Hearts would change.

And with those hearts, the world.

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This post was inspired by a recent article by blogger Middleaged Mormon Man. It's a great read; go check it out!