You Never Can Tell

I woke up this morning remembering something that I've been thinking about journaling about for a long time. It's an experience that has become very personal to me, yet is easily shared with people I may not normally be comfortable sharing personal experiences with.

It was something that happened probably in January of 2008.

I was in the Cold Spring YSA ward and had been working 60+ hours a week (at 3 different jobs) for about 3 months at that point. I was enjoying having a "bench buddy." Now, if you're not familiar with that term (which you shouldn't be; I made it up), let me explain. It's someone you sit with in church on a regular basis. Often, you begin the Bench Buddy program because you both show up alone. Another important part of this program is that the Buddyship does not extend beyond the walls of the chapel. Then it becomes a friendship and is susceptible to the obligations and responsibilities of such a relationship.

I loved my Bench Buddy, Aleena. She did a lot for me, and told me that I had done a lot for her. She was the first person to sit beside me and introduce herself to me when I moved to the area, but that's not why I loved her. We later talked about that, only once, and she admitted that doing so had been out of character for her. And it's not like I had been sitting in her regular spot, either. (Sometimes, you get territorial about your seat and when a newbie arrives, you scope them out and subtly claim your territory.) We bonded. But it isn't like we would have had much in common outside of those chapel walls. I was sorry to discover she was no longer in the Singles Ward by the time I returned to the ward.

She and I sat next to each other in all the meetings. Except when she was teaching Sunday School. Which happened about every other week. Sometimes, someone else sat next to me; sometimes, no one did. I was generally unaffected by either situation. One thing that never happened was that I would get up from where we had been sitting during RS to sit next to someone else while she taught SS.

It almost did one day, though. Almost.

I had gone to stretch my legs under the guise of using the restroom or getting a drink of water. When I came back, the room was pretty empty. Maybe a few people. There was one fellow in the back corner of the room, who I didn't recognize. My first impression of him was "Does he belong here?" And, by that, I mean I couldn't tell from my perspective whether or not he was "eligible" for membership in the YSA ward. You may not believe me, but I couldn't tell if he was just on the older end of the spectrum or if maybe he was a stake visitor. (Those are generally pretty obvious to spot in a Single's Ward, since they're, you know, older than the overwhelming majority of the congregation.) I thought maybe he looked a little lonely, but wasn't sure; he could have just been tired.

That was my justification for not going over there. After I talked myself out of introducing myself, I began to cozy up with my own thoughts. I was pretty wrapped up in myself at that time, and hadn't quite fully grasped the concept that one's own burdens really do come lighter when you focus on someone else's. So, his possible loneliness was of no consequence to me. (Can I just interject: what an idiot I was!)

People began trickling in, and I watched them. After a couple of the people who I had observed to be experts in introducing themselves to new/potentially new members had found their seats, I looked over to see if anyone was talking to the bald guy in the corner. No one was. I was all set to get up out of my comfort zone and introduce myself when I saw someone I recognized as the Stake High Council's YSA representative approach him. I observed that they shook hands and addressed each other by name, appearing to have known each other. I settled back in my chair and thought, "He's got a friend, he doesn't need me."

Let me reiterate that thought: He's got a friend, he doesn't need me (to be his friend).

I promptly forgot about the incident. I was, like I said, pretty wrapped up in my own thoughts and life at the time. The funny thing is, I forget what I was thinking about at the time. I mean, I can make some good guesses based on what I know was going on in my life around that time. But the truth is, I remember that experience because I later discovered (or realized) who that guy in the corner was. And I should have stepped out of my comfort zone. He really could have used an extra friend.