The Spark that Started it All
Several years ago, my husband and I decided on a whim that we were going to go to church. Not just any church, but the Unitarian Universalist church in our town. Neither of us knew much about it, but we’d heard it was welcoming, open-minded, and different. And that particular Sunday, “different” sounded just right.
We walked in not really knowing what to expect.
Inside, there were two people chatting near the entrance. A man and a woman. They looked up at us with polite surprise, as if we’d wandered in through the wrong door. Which, for a second, I thought we might have. After a beat, the man smiled and asked, “Are you here for directions?”
Apparently, not many people showed up, and new faces were rare enough that the assumption was not “welcome” but “you must be lost.”
It was a small group that day, but warm and earnest. The service was centered on the environment and ways we could help: planting trees, supporting local initiatives, taking care of our shared home. I loved that. Helping people, helping the planet, accepting everyone who walked in. It all resonated with me.
After the service, we planned to sneak out gracefully. But no one was sneaking out of there. Instead, we were ushered to a table of snacks (apparently a non-negotiable tradition) and found ourselves sitting in on a little roundtable “get to know you” session.
One by one, everyone shared something about themselves.
Every single person was unique, eccentric even, but there was a kindness that knit them all together. Big hearts on full display.
Just as we thought we might finally be able to make our exit, the minister came over to thank us for visiting and asked us to stay and chat a little longer. When he found out we had kids at home, he even asked for our thoughts on creating a kid-friendly space during the service, since, as he admitted, there weren’t currently any children in the congregation.
On the way home, I turned to my husband and said, “There could be a TV show about that group. And I’d watch it!”
That thought stuck with me for years. Maybe not a TV show… but a story. And maybe… I could be the one to tell it.
We never went back—life got busy, as it does—but that little group of do-gooders left an imprint. They sparked something.
When I sat down to write my novel, I didn’t want to write about a church I’d only visited once. But I wanted to hold onto the heart of that experience. The kindness, the acceptance, the quirky cast of characters, the humor that came from real people just trying their best to make a difference.
So, I created a grassroots humanitarian group instead.
All of the characters in my book are my own—unique, flawed, funny, tender—but they’re stitched together from moments like that morning. Pieces of people I’ve met, people I love, and yes, maybe a little of that group who thought we were there for directions.
I can’t wait for the day you get to read it! And maybe you’ll even recognize a little piece of yourself in the story.
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
