A shop encounter

 Consider this situation: you've known your mother for all your life. You know her sense of humor, the things she often says, the places and people she loves. You know her appearance-- her height and hair, eyes and skin. 

But then one day a stranger comes to you and says, "Let me describe your mother to you", and proceeds to describe someone who, while bearing a passing resemblance to your mother, is in reality nothing like her. "See," they say, "I know your mother! I've just told you all about her! In fact, I really love her!" 

Do you agree with them? Or do you answer that they have no idea what they're talking about? 

This was the illustration that I found myself giving a random man in a shop last week, as he tried to tell me that he and his people knew and loved my Savior. It's a line I often hear: "We know J. Everything about him is contained in our book! We love him too, just like all the others." But how can they say that they know and love him, when they refuse to read the firsthand testimony of those who spent years with him? Why would they listen to a stranger, when they can know the words of his friends? 

Of course, my conversation in the electronics shop was a long one, containing much more than this short illustration. And it was clear my conversation partner wasn't interested in being persuaded. But there was a person sitting nearby who, while not participating, was obviously listening. And a little story might change a life, if we only let it.