Later that week I spoke to my friend M.
"So?" he asked.
"No, I didn't meet a I guy," I said, "but it was lots of fun. I really liked everyone. Something happened, something nice. Nothing in particular. I just had a great time." I didn't know how to go into any more detail. That's how I would characterize the experience to my friends, the few whom I knew wouldn't laugh at my newfound religious zeal, for months afterwards: something happened.
I told M. that I planned to go to services that Saturday. He was happy, and surprised, but had other plans. So I went by myself.