"You do know that God gave that land to the Jews, right?"
"I don't consider the bible a history book. Therefore, sorry, I don't."
"The bible is not a history book, it is the word of God."
"Again, I am not seeking to offend your beliefs, but I do not believe in the God you are talking about, and therefore, to me, the bible is a book of mythology, written by man, not a reliable documentation of anything."
"Well, I am sorry for you."
"Oh, you are?", I start to lose my patience.
"Yes, because you cannot see the truth."
"I can see my own truth,"
"There is no truth without HIM", her finger in now pointing to the ceiling.
To her, that finger is probably pointing way further than that, but the mind of the cynical heretic I am, is busy mapping the floor upstairs, and amusing itself with the thought that she might be pointing towards the upstairs toilet.
Other people, who seek my attention after the talk I gave, are gathering around, but this woman is not letting go. She has handed me a pamphlet that says "Jews for Jesus" and is carrying on with her monologue.
I interrupt her, "Let me please suggest an idea".
"Would you be willing to give me the slightest benefit of the doubt?"
"No, no, no."
"I haven't even finished my idea, what are you saying no to?"
"There is NO doubt when it comes to HIM!" The finger is pointing up again, but now it looks as if she's asking for the permission to speak, which seemed ironic since she had completely hijacked the conversation.
"Let me please finish my point first, I'm sure God would have given me that courtesy!"
That seemed to work, so I continue.
"What I'm saying is I always keep in my mind a certain amount of doubt, there is definitely a chance that you may be right, that there is a God, and that he indeed gave the land to the Jews. But can you grant me that same gesture? Can you keep an opening for the slight chance that I may be right, and that God is not what religion portrays him or her to be, and that the bible is a bundle of myths and tales written by man in order to implement social order?"
"So now you encapsulate everything I've been talking about all night: My narrative has room to include yours, but your narrative refuses even to consider including mine."
She had a puzzled look in her eyes, and I feel I had reached her, I had made her think it through for a second. After all, I am not asking to convert her or anything, just a small crack would do, through which human solidarity can seep in. But I was too ambitious, the fleeting moment passes, and determination invades her eyes again "I really hope you see the light", she says.
"Thank you", I reply, "That has always been my quest in life".