The home-visit I made last week was a little scary. Thank goodness my second visit last night to the home of Cindy (not her real name) and her father wasn't scary at all.

Our meeting time had been delayed from 7:00 to 8 p.m. Cindy was practicing driving with her father in preparation for taking her driver's test. Cindy is 16. This is also the first week of school, and she was switching schools, so it was a busy day for the two of them.

Of course, it was a busy day for me, too, and for Megan and Taraz who joined me for the weeknight home-visit. Megan's work hours and commute from Seattle can mean she doesn't get home some nights until 7:30. Taraz gets off work at 7 p.m. normally. I wasn't home until 6:30, a little later than usual.

No sooner was I in the door than Bonita was saying she needed a steak. Cindy's call earlier moving our meeting an hour later gave Bonita and I just enough time to have dinner together at the Outback. Taraz touched base by phone during the meal. He and I were to touch base about 3 more times before the evening was over.

I was on my way to Cindy's when I got the call that she still needed a little extra time to put her house in order. We agreed that 8:30 would work fine. OK, enough time for me to return the music CDs to the library, but afterwards on the freeway I took the left lane when I should have taken the right and ended up going miles out of my way, the whole way my thoughts alternating between prayer and the-opposite-of-prayer, but I still made it to Cindy's by 8:35. Whew!

No Megan and Taraz yet, though. They were delivering a birthday cake to Sandy, whose own arrival home had been delayed -- did I say we live busy lives? -- but they would be on their way shortly.

I was warmly greeted by Cindy. Her father was seated in the living room busy on a project. I couldn't tell exactly but I imagined that he was cleaning his weapons. That was what had been scary about last week.

Here I was doing a home-visit to a teenager, yes, one whom I had talked to before, and, yes, a teenager whose father, according to her, was open to her having Baha'is visit, but I am not a teenager myself, in case anyone is wondering, and I felt awkward from the get-go of that first visit.

I had arrived five minutes or so before her father came home. As he walked in the door he was sizing me up, no doubt. There was no smile of greeting, just a big man with a brusque manner, taking off his coat as he crossed the room, his handcuffs at the ready behind his back and his revolver in its holster, a man who lay what looked like a gun with a foldable stock down on a side table, and then sat down very straight-faced. Yeah, it had been a little scary.

I had talked fast and smiled a lot. I'd brought some teaching materials, Book Zero, but we never got to it. We chatted instead, talking about family mostly. I found I was directing many of my comments to Cindy's father. I could feel more comfortable with him than Cindy because he and I are about the same age. He appeared to warm up. He told me where he worked and what he did. He owns a security business. Hence, the weapons. Aha!

We talked about religion. Cindy's father is a Mormon although not currently practicing. He had never heard of the Baha'i Faith until Cindy told him about it as part of asking permission for me to come over.

I had wished I had had a teaching partner with me last week. I couldn't arrange one, despite a few last minute calls. But yesterday I did have support. A little after 9 p.m. in walked my son and Megan. I was already having a great time.

Before they arrived there was some chit-chat, but this week we actually got down to study. I had the pages of Book Zero out, the ones with simple line drawings. I was using those pages to tell the story of the Bab. Cindy was nodding as I talked, which was very reinforcing. It seemed her father was entirely focussed on the story as well.

Taraz pointed out the picture of the Shrine of the Bab on his shirt. We talked about Haifa for a little bit, Megan mentioning that she and Taraz might be going on Pilgrimage next Spring with her family. Cindy's father noticed Taraz's shoes and that Megan spoke softly. He seemed pleased and impressed with these Baha'i young adults.

Next time I'll tell the story of Baha'u'llah.