Elder Melvin Ballard and his companion, Elder Keith Tibbitts, were tracting a neighbourhood for the second time. Names of those who had definitely rejected the message on the first round were marked so that their houses would be passed by. Several doors in succession had invited or at least tolerated return, and consequently the two became a little lax in checking the names. “Knock, Knock, Knock,” went the next door as Elder Ballard hung heavily on the knocker. Glancing quickly at the tracting record, a sinking feeling came to his stomach as he realised that it was one of the homes marked with X—they wanted to hear no more of the Gospel.

It was too late to leave—the door had already opened—and there stood the lady of the house with a surprised and rather chagrined look on her face. Instead of apologising and beating a hasty retreat, Elder Ballard plunged into conversation. Surprisingly enough, the woman was drawn into it, and after a few minutes, realised that she had misjudged the two boys and their message. Elders Ballard and Tibbitts walked away feeling mighty happy about that error, but it was not until several weeks later when the following letter forwarded to Elder Ballard from his parents was received that they came to appreciate it fully.

This letter brought a thrill to Elder Ballard that he wishes to share with you:

Dear Mr. Ballard, (written to his father)

Your son, Elder Melvin Russell Ballard, according to his card, called at my door today to leave a tract. He did not convert me, but I admired his sincerity and pluck.

I gathered from the conversation that you are footing the bill for this missionary tour of his, and I thought you would like to know, from a perfect stranger, that your money is being well spent. I don’t know if he will make many converts, but judging from my neighbours’ chat, I think he and his companion are creating a new and good impression of the folk in Utah. Before today I classed it with Timbuctoo—now I think of it as the home of two brave and courageous young men. If they have mothers too, I know they will be pleased to hear that they looked well (in spite of our rations) and happy. I have noticed them several times while out shopping and they seemed to be enjoying their work. I am a mother myself—that is why I am writing to you. Perhaps one day my children will travel a long way from home, and I know I should be glad to know that they were well and happy.

Please forgive this intrusion into your domestic life—I noticed the home address on the pretty coloured picture of the L.D.S. Temple.

With every good wish,

Mrs. J.R. Preston.

– Millennial Star, August 1948