I am a very busy guy with two jobs, musical gigs to play, books to read, columns to write, and parties to attend. There's no room for anything extra right now. But sometimes you have to make room.

I was working as a store clerk recently when an elderly man entered, slowly and a bit unsteadily. I asked him how I could help him. He was seeking Spanish guitar music. I chose a CD for him to listen to and as it played, he talked to me about the music. Then he began telling me stories about when he lived in Pakistan. I thought "I should be doing my job," as in not standing around. But I listened.

He told me of how he used to sit in a room in his huge house in Pakistan, surrounded by a circle of radios tuned to the same station, and how he stood by his mother until her death. The title of one of the tracks I played spurred him to discuss the stance of today's North American society on sexuality and gender relations. It led him to talk about Islam: his religion and his code of daily behviour.

I could have been helping other customers or doing other things. But this wise Muslim was telling me things I had never heard before.

Many of the things he said offended my politically-correct Canadian sensibilities. His views are radically different than mine. He would have caused most Canadians to protest. He knew exactly how things should be in the world and this was not as I thought they should be. I have encountered this thinking many times and saw no point in arguing with him.

He relayed how he once picked up a hitchhiker in India who pulled a knife on him. The hitchhiker wanted money for alcohol. The gentleman drove to a liquor store and bought whiskey for his assailant then drove him home. When the hitchhiker questioned his behaviour, the man replied, "I want to show that acts of evil can be met with acts of good." The hitchhiker later wrote him letters thanking him for his help in learning to lead a good life.

The man wanted to buy a radio and some earphones at the store I was working in. The headphones included with the radio he wanted were not the kind he wanted and he asked for a simple trade for the right ones. He didn't understand about the price difference and multiple products being sold as a package. I took the ear-buds he wanted to a different till and bought them for him with my own money. He wanted to chat with me, and I told him we could meet for lunch at my other retail job, across the parking lot. He later visited me there, and we sat undisturbed and discussed religion.

"It's good that you all have all these different books," he said, looking around the store, "You can read about Hinduism and see why they are wrong." Many thoughts passed through my mind, but I said nothing.

I later went to his home for dinner and saw photos of his family, his former mansion and servants in Pakistan, the house of God at Mecca, and the modern Shah Faisal Mosque. He offered me clothes he no longer wore; they were too big for him.

The old man was thankful for my attention, glad to know that young people could still listen and learn. I disagreed with him a lot, but refused to miss an opportunity to learn for that reason.

People who believe what we do not are not a threat to Canada. Ignoring them or fighting with them because we are too busy or too different harms only ourselves.