When I was somewhere around the end of primary school we had a guy come to talk to us at school. He was a native american, who worked as an undercover cop in the states.
I don’t remember exactly what he was there to talk to us about, but the bit that I remember is when he talked about his faith, or rather why it was his faith.
He followed the faith of his ancestors, the sort of totemic tribal faith that native americans always followed. He learned it from his grandmother.
But when his grandmother taught him, she explained the faith to him, yet urged him to leaner about other faiths and make up his own mind.
He had travelled, spoken to many people of many different faiths, and in the end he had returned to his roots, but he chose to return to his roots.
At the time I understood that his case was unusual, although growing up in the liberal environment I did, I didn’t understand exactly how unusual, yet it’s a story that I still remember.