Chapter 1 : the first meeting

All the facts of the story are true, we didn't add anything from our imagination.

I don’t usually pray. And this usually you can translate as never. Last time I have prayed in my life was when I was deeply in drugs and alcohol, and other things. It happened on that day when I realized I didn’t care about anything and nobody not even myself. I couldn’t have any pleasure or pain. Even if my loved brother would have died I would surely had no feeling. I was living like a ghost. Living for nothing and not able to die for a mysterious reason. I was not feeling empty. I was emptiness. There was nothing in me to be filled with. So on that spring day of many years ago I have prayed directly to God : “Oh God if you really exist please at least make me suffer.”
I think He listened to me. From that moment my life changed. Changed in a way that brought me difficulties and pains, but not for a second in my head I was thinking about God. I became a sufferer but not a believer.

Many years have passed and I have learnt how to be surprised just by the good things in life, the bad was just the average. I was not empty any more at that time but full of pains. And no future either to believe or to betray since I was not at young man any more. I couldn’t believe any more in myself and in my strength. I didn’t have any strength left. I was done. And here I am again after more then twenty years I had the inspiration to pray again: "please let me fall in love for the good, for the last time in my life and that I can have the family that I have never felt to have. "

Of course I didn’t think about it after but one night I have drunken at the point of feeling sick and passed out on my couch.
It was about 10 in the morning when I heard somebody knocking at my door and I said to myself: what the … why somebody is knocking… who could be, maybe the postman…can go to…
I didn’t want to get up, I don’t generally get up and open the door especially when I don’t wait for anybody. I don’t even answer to the phone if I am not waiting for a call. But I got up and opened. My eyes were not seeing clearly yet but in front of me there were two young girls. The one on the left said they were from ….I don’t know what I have just understood Jesus Christ. Then she said if I was interested to listen, and I have said yes come in , but when I said I was alone in my house they answered they couldn’t come in since they were two girls, so I should give them my telephone number to be contacted by some guys. I didn’t understand anything not even the idiot reason behind that complication so I gave them a telephone number . But a wrong one. Said goodbye and closed the door and happily went back to reach my sleep again. I needed to sleep after all that alcohol.

I was going to pass in dream state when I heard a voice that from now on I will call ghost voice since it was similar to the voice of my thoughts but not really. Was not like hearing voices if not I would have gone to seek for professional help, but definitely was not the voice of my thoughts for this reason I will call this voice ghost voice."She is your wife, you are her husband, and ... "
What the ghost voice said at the end I will tell you further on. Much further on the story.

I jumped out of my bed and said what? I didn’t know how to react but for curiosity I went down the stairs to see who was supposed to be my wife, and what I saw were two young girls. . So since I am in my early forties when I saw these two girls that looked at the most sixteen to me, I ironically said to myself:. Sure, one of these two is my wife. Sure. And I went back to my apartment and didn’t think any more about it. Like nothing happened and this for about two weeks.

Then it was a boring evening as many others, you know the kind: nothing on the TV, you have too much CDs but not the right one, outside is too cold to go anywhere, and you are alone. And you are not that hypocrite to sell yourself something constructive to do. I was sitting on my couch and: "you have to find her, she is your wife and you have… (you remember that I will tell you the end of the sentence much later on) you cannot give her a wrong telephone number" the ghost voice again! What kind of joke was that! I was very surprised to say the least. But How I was going to find her? "Go in the internet you are going to find her there." again the ghost voice. It seemed really ridiculous to me that I was going to find her in the internet without even knowing her name, but I don’t know why this seamed even though absurd absolutely normal. So I went searching in the internet, all the things about Mormons and I was trying to see if they had a pictures of the missionaries. I thought it worked like some kind of sport were you have the pictures of each team player. I couldn’t remember her face, but somehow I was sure that if I would have seen her in a picture I would have recognized her.

Of course I found…nothing. So after about one hour and half, I got tired and I lost my main target and started looking for other things when all of a sudden I was on some business address, that I didn’t need neither was trying to find and that didn’t have anything interesting to me : "yes it is here. You have to write here." It was absolutely absurd but felt normal to write there in a business address. But I wrote there this:

hello,
how can I have a visit of a missionary? My native language is Italian, but I currently speak French even though I prefer writing in English.
all the best

Yes it was that crazy. After few days I received this:

I’m not sure if I should know you. For an answer to your question – go to. mormon.org good luck

Over there, on that business address there was somebody connected with those missionaries religion that came to my door! How many chances would you need for this to happen? I wrote another e-mail to this person, and I received this:

Please clarify how you got my e-mail address. Thanks

Apparently I have got somebody suspicious on something unclear. A completely unknown person, me, got his e-mail address and kept on writing to him about religion. Since it was not in my planes to get somebody worried about something I wrote him a letter of apology explaining what happened and that I didn’t and I couldn’t know him and that I didn’t know even where he lived. There was no possible connection with him and my life. It happened that this man was located very far away from where I was living. He was in Utah, in U.S. But he had a daughter. And his daughter right in that moment was serving as a missionary in my country.

To be continued: next Sunday the 9 January 2011