Sharing my love for my religion is something I don't do very often. It is something very precious to me and it is not something I want to be taken lightly. I usually keep it close to my heart unless I feel the strong urge to share it with someone I connect with on a very personal level and may have interest.
One of my favorite moments in 2006 was when I left a Book of Mormon with a dear neighbor. I included a touching letter of how my faith has been a big part of my life and I couldn't think of any other gift I could give her that would measure closely to what I value it to be. It was well recieved and by far the best goodbye present I felt would be appropriate for the frienship we developed and trials in her life.
It went a lot more smoothly and naturally, say, than my experience in Brooklyn several years prior. I made Easter baskets with candy and plastic green grass- even hollow chocolate easter bunnies! I felt an overwhelming urge to share my joy for The Savior's resurrection. Not a feeling I have often enough. I was not satisfied sitting on this feeling, I had to share it. I typed up a cute little poem about my love for Christ, rolled it up and tied a pretty ribbon around it. I put one in each basket along with a Book of Mormon. I decided my neighbors above me and below me would get the baskets and thought nothing more of it after leaving them at their front doors.
Days passed and I told Mike what I had done. He smirked and held in his secret curiousity of how it would all go down when we passed our neighbors in the hall. It wasn't until I read his face that I remembered the girls living above us were lesbians and the girl below us was Jewish.
