Door knocking requires a certain level of detachment. You’re often talking to doorbell cameras instead of face-to-face interactions, and you get a lot of rejections. You need to steel yourself and not take it personally. I usually remind myself that every rejection is leading to the next acceptance. It can’t be all bad, all day! If you can make it to that sixteenth door, your efforts will, more often than not, be rewarded.
I remember once knocking on a door and, after explaining who I was and what we offered, receiving a polite, but firm rejection. I left the house in disappointment, mentally recording it as another failure.
I could never have imagined that the woman who’d so stiffly told me, No thanks; we’re not interested, would mention my visit to her relative, who’d then look us up and reach out, offering their support to help us in our “very special mission.” They’ve since become one of our greatest supporters and dear friends.
Another time, a man opened the door and welcomed me with a big smile.
“It’s been so hard recently. After October 7, I felt lost and abandoned. I marched with all my friends to champion their causes, but not a single one of them reached out to me after Hamas’ invasion. I’ve learned who my true friends are. We Jews need to stick together! Thank you for visiting! It means a lot to me.”
Another man, Ted*, declined to even speak with me when I first rang his bell. Now, if I don’t visit him at least once every couple of weeks, he calls to find out when I’ll be in his area next.
Although I suffer from cynophobia and try to avoid dogs, when knocking on doors in Los Angeles, it’s impossible to avoid. I’ve had to work on myself to overcome my fear, and now, I mark down the dog’s name beside the owners’, so the next time I visit, I can greet them, too.
