In the early summer I met a guy at church who had just returned from two years of missionary service in France. He was 21 or 22. The bishop asked him to work with the young men in our ward in the lay priesthood organization. For some reason he took an interest in me, taking me on a couple of outings, just the two of us. I guess he could tell I was struggling with trying to figure out who I was or wanted to be. One trip we drove in his Corvaire to Sausolito on the other side of the...