We had a personal visit at our home last week.  It was a good visit, but it was strangely interesting.  It was Monday evening, the night before election day.

   My wife took a phone call prior to the visit from the wife of another couple.  The caller wondered if it would be okay if they dropped by to say hello and to give us a treat.  “Sure, come on over,” was the answer.

   “Treats” is a magic word for me.  It opens our door.  And, I use it to open the doors of other people at times.  An old guy from North Sanpete told me one time that if you “show up at somebody’s house with a jug of root beer and a half-gallon of ice cream,  that some good can be done.”

   The late, great Sanpete District Court Judge, Don Tibbs,  used to preach the same philosophy.  He was our neighbor for many years.

   I know a couple who moved to Sanpete a few years ago and went around hither, thither and yon knocking on doors giving away plates of cookies.  They wanted to introduce themselves and get to know people.  They’re still doing it as far as I know.  We’ve been treated by them.

   I re-told my “Grand Canyon near death experience,” which involved a treat, at church on Sunday.  I brought it up in the guys’ class.  I won’t give a lengthy version here now, but it involved me as a toddler getting on the wrong side of a protective barrier at a viewpoint at the canyon.

   How did I get over there in a position of danger?  I don’t know.  My older siblings have never admitted to placing me out there, but that remains a possibility.  (I jest)  I think it had to do with National Park Service safety barriers not being as childproof in the early 1950’s as they are today.

   The point of this story is that I apparently was saved by a treat – candy.  Reportedly, people were worried that the wrong approach of attempting to rescue me might cause a reaction that would  in some way send me over the edge.  By “people,” I think I primarily mean my mother.

   A smart, tourist lady pulled some candy out of her purse.  She got my attention and lured me with the candy.  I “took the bait and was reeled in” to safety.  I have no memory of this incident, but it is part of our family lore.

   I’m hoping that the candy was chocolate.  I visualize it as a Three Musketeers candy bar.  That bar was introduced in 1932 by Mars, Inc.   It was a personal favorite of mine as a kid when you could buy that, bigger than they are now,  candy bar for a nickel at the Huish Theater in Richfield.  A soda pop was a dime and the movie ticket was thirty-five cents.  So a Ben Franklin half-dollar  coin was what I was looking for when I wanted to go to the movies.

   The churchy moral of the Grand Canyon story was that if we stay on the metaphorical correct path of life and stay on the safe side of guardrails, we can avoid catastrophes.  And, we need to find the right motivations to help each other get back on life’s safe side of fences and barriers.

   Of course the joke was made in the church class, by people who know me well, that things haven’t changed for me.  I’m still motivated by treats.

   I sense that I’ve departed off onto a bit of a tangent again here.  What about our visitors at our home on election day eve?

   So, we know this couple who came to visit, but not really all that well.  They live a few blocks away from us and are very nice people from my observation.   But I don’t really know them.

   So here’s the deal.  Here’s what motivated the visit and the bringing of the treat.  They explained like this:   “We know that we don’t agree politically with you.  Our political positions are different from yours.  It’s a fact of life that people aren’t going to be “on the same page” with each other all the time these days.”

   They continued: “But, just because we don’t agree on those things doesn’t mean that we can’t get along.  We can be friends and respect each other.”

   We readily agreed and “picked up what they were laying down” as we sometimes say.  No argument from us.  The “olive leaf” of peace was extended and we accepted it – along with the treats!

   I invited the guy to come downstairs and watch the BYU vs. Ohio State basketball game that I had going on TV.  He agreed and let me know that he was okay with BYU as long as they weren’t playing the Utes.  (Now,  there’s the real divide – the issue of that particular blue vs. that particular red (haha).

   We had a great visit and watched the ball game.  (We haven’t had the occasion to have a conversation since the “U” took down the “Y” on the football field last Saturday.)

   There was an interesting and somewhat mysterious part of the conversation that involved a question which was never addressed.  The question my wife and I had was, “How did you know that our politics were different from your politics?”

   We’re quite low profile, generally speaking, with where we, as a couple, stand on political matters.  It usually makes life easier.

   In addition, my wife and I don’t always have identical views either.  We have some disagreements, but we get along.  Treats help.

   So, here’s the long and the short of it,  for all of us: we can disagree on many things in life and still have respect, friendship, camaraderie, and good times together.  And, of course, treats make everything better.

   I’ll bet you’re wondering about something.  You may be thinking, “What were those peace offering treats that were brought to us?”  The answer:  a plate of individual, cupcake sized cheesecakes with a layer of melted chocolate mixed with  butter on top.  Delicious!  (I’ll disagree with you anytime for that.)  — Merrill

P.S.  “I hate judgmental people!  And I can tell who they are just by looking at them.”  – Unknown