We weren't even late to church last Sunday, but we still had the shocking experience of starting up the aisle only to realize that our bench was occupied.

What interloper, what stranger, what unbelievably thoughtless person had taken the third bench from the front on the right?

True, there was no plaque with our name on it affixed to the bench. But all of the people sitting in that region of the chapel were longtime members of the ward, and all of them usually sat in that general area; none could plead ignorance.

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