My mother, who was originally a committed member of the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland, and later a member of the local Methodist Church, used to meet the mother of another schoolboy as she fetched her own son at the school gates. This lady was a Christadelphian, and the two often chatted about religious matters when they met. About the same time, my father, who was not religious but loved a good argument, was having conversations with the lady’s father, also a Christadelphian, in the shipyard where they both worked. This gentleman’s main interest was in Bible prophecy – he had already raised astonishment and incredulity when he wrote up on the wall of the shipyard “Hitler will never invade Britain!”
My mother happened to see an advert (in a racing paper of all things – my father was a betting man!) placed by the Christadelphian Church, advertising talks on Bible prophecy, and began attending the talks on a regular basis, complemented by discussions with the Christadelphian family.
After some time my mother decided to be baptized, and after some months I too, having been convinced of the Bible truths our Christadelphians friends had taught us from the Bible, was baptized.