Mormons have a reputation for being gullible. And for some of us, it has taken most of our lives to earn that reputation.

I've been hoodwinked so many times I'm thinking of calling my autobiography "A Stranger Taken In."

We are a believing people.

When someone in church says their grandfather came to them in a dream and told them to write the family history, we don't doubt it for a minute.

So when someone comes to the front door and says his handy-dandy head-scratcher will cure our migraines, we tend to take him at his word as well.

We trust folks.

Some say that makes people here "gullible." But another word for gullible is "guileless." And I'll take "guileless" over "suspicious" every day of the week.

We might get burned at times. And it does leave us open to "ravenous wolves" both outside and within the flock. But more often than not, we are rewarded for being trusting.

When I went into cardiac arrest in Dallas a decade ago, they had to tear my clothes off to rescue me. So I had nothing to wear out of the hospital. Two LDS missionaries were visiting me when I was released, and I asked if they'd be willing to buy me some new clothes. I gave them my Visa card. It never crossed my mind they might take advantage of me. Apparently it didn't cross the mind of the sales clerk, either. She let them ring up $150 worth of clothing on my card without batting an eye. She said she trusted them.

I limped out of the hospital, dressed like a king in my new wardrobe from the GAP.

I like living in a world that works like that.

I like living in a world where — at age 60 — I can walk into Deseret Book with a good-looking 14-year-old Hispanic kid, go to the jewelry counter and buy him a CTR ring, and know people will assume I'm a priesthood leader trying to help a young man at a turning point in his life.

I like living in a world where I can do a column about a rare book written by Elder Russell M. Nelson — a book now valued at $900 — and have half a dozen strangers write me to say I can borrow their copies to read if I'd like — without giving a thought that I might drop it in the bathtub or bolt for the border with it.

I like telling things to people and having them believe me.

I like believing what other people have to tell me.

Some might call that being gullible. But I've found it is also guileless.

And, according to my dictionary, the opposite of "guileless" is "suspicious," "crafty" and "shifty."

So, bring on the dreams of ancestors, the missionaries who refuse to steal, the Saints who trust others with their keepsakes and salespeople who assume good intentions in their customers.

Give me that, and I'll gladly deal with those crafty "handy-dandy head-scratcher" salesmen when they come along.

Jerry Johnston is a Deseret News staff writer. "New Harmony" appears weekly in Mormon Times.