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Some of our best friends have been non-Mormon relatives.

My husband, Jack, a convert to the Church, was the only Mormon in his family when we first met.

We could even josh him about them, and when he’d tease us about our cache of food in the basement, I would send over a jar of home-canned peaches or jam as a friendly silencer.

A full weekend of family fun showcases the best of what the International Wolf Center and Ely has to offer. How about tips on how to make the most of your time in a specific city?The Wolf Family Rendezvous program includes three days of free admissions to the International Wolf Center, private lessons about wolves, private wolf viewing time before and after the Center closes to the public, a hike in the Superior Natural Forest, a pizza dinner and admission to the popular Saturday night ‘What’s for Dinner? After that program, spread out your sleeping bag in our auditorium and spend the night in the Center to observe the wolves overnight. Our Minnesota experts can answer your questions, offer advice, or plan the perfect Minnesota trip for you. His brown eyes literally danced, and somewhere under the moustache that always reminded me of a warehouse push broom, there was a huge grin.With Jack perched on the orange stool in our kitchen where he could be close enough to sample the product at various intervals, Fred got his first lesson in breadmaking.Sometimes we talked about the Church and answered questions, but we respected each other’s differences.

I don’t ever remember Fred’s bringing one of his huge eight-inch-long cigars into our house lighted.

We lived anywhere from two to forty-eight miles from the nearest Latter-day Saint, and though we certainly had warm friendships in the wards and branches we attended, our lives would have been pretty empty without our nonmember friends and neighbors.

To let my mind run back over the years through some of those friendships is a delight.

They knew of our activity in the Church, and we answered questions, sometimes discussed, and occasionally argued (which accomplished anything), but each one came into the Church in his or her own way, finding needs filled by the gospel.

My husband was converted to the Church by the example of a college roommate who lived his religion, and Jack noticed.

I saw Justine again last fall, and again we talked of religion. “While you are looking,” I said, “why don’t you look into our Church? Jack’s return to graduate school took us from New England to his native Ohio.