A Jehovah's Witness came to my door the other day and asked if she could talk to me briefly about the Bible. I was completely distracted by her face. I can't remember the last time I've met an adult that old with absolutely no lines on her face. It was as smooth as a child's. I wanted to know how she managed to move through, I'm guessing, forty some odd years of live without any evidence of that life imprinting on her. I had this overwhelming urge to pick her apart and save her from this cult to which she belongs.
I was so distracted, in fact, that I told her it would be ok to return in a week to tell me more.