I grew up in a Presbyterian church in Seattle. The war in Vietnam was in full force. My husband knew he would be drafted, so he applied to be a noncombatant. He would serve in the military, but he wouldn’t carry a gun.

Our pastor, an Army chaplain, didn’t support us in this. We went ahead with the paperwork, and my husband was drafted and trained to be a combat medic.

Several years later, we found ourselves in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, with our 2-year-old daughter. We had been part of a Sunday night Bible study, and this was our first Sunday away from home and friends. We were so lonely!

We took our daughter to the local park, where she played. Before long, another little girl joined us and played with our daughter. Her parents were not far behind. We got to talking and found out they were planting a Mennonite church in our neighborhood. Their names were Del and Lucy Epp.

We had never heard of Mennonites. But when we learned they were a peace church, we were ready to give it a try.

I’ve been a Mennonite ever since. I came for peace and stayed for simple living and community.

Over the years, other Mennonites have said some memorable things to me.

A few older ladies were helping with the church planting in Cedar Rapids. One asked if I was a real Mennonite, meaning: Had I grown up Mennonite? Her friend said, “She’s more Mennonite than we are! She chose it.”

I have moved a lot in my adult life. To my delight, finding the nearest Mennonite church and attending Sunday school immediately puts me in touch with people who share my values. That makes establishing myself in a new place so much easier.

Another memorable conversation took place when I was volunteering with Mennonite Disaster Service on the Eastern Shore of Chesapeake Bay. Several Old Order girls had come with me to watch the sunset on the dock.

In our conversation, one girl said, “I’m a cultural Mennonite but not a religious Mennonite,” meaning she wore her cape dress and covering because she wanted to stay in her community, but religion no longer appealed to her. I told her I was just the opposite, a religious Mennonite but not a cultural one.

There are two places where I find myself somewhat at odds with many in my Mennonite community, but they don’t directly oppose me. First is my involvement in Scouting America, formerly known as Boy Scouts.

After shepherding my own boys through Scouts, over the years I have involved a number of refugee boys in the program. Yes, the organization was founded along military lines, but it teaches young people to work hard, live honest lives and become leaders in their communities.

The other place I find people may not agree with me is my belief in Death with Dignity, also known as physician-assisted suicide. I have had cancer on and off for 15 years. If the time comes that I would have to have a voice box and a feeding tube, I want the option to speed up the dying process.

At a retreat a few months ago, the thought came to me that cancer is an invitation from God to go home. I’ve been saying, “Not yet,” for 15 years. The time may come when I say, “Yes, please. I’m ready.”

Some of my Mennonite friends tell me they would not make that choice for themselves, but they understand why I might.

Life as a Mennonite has been richly rewarding. I’m grateful for that little girl who found my family in the park and to her parents who taught us about Mennonites.

Evelyn Turner attends Cedar Falls Mennonite Church in Iowa. She taught English to speakers of other languages in Rochester, Minn., public schools and now teaches part-time in the Adult Learning Center of Hawkeye Community College in Waterloo, Iowa.