I met a woman who converted to Judaism in her 40s. As a college student she was on a quest to find the right religion to replace the Christian fundamentalism in which she grew up.
She chanced to meet a nice middle-aged man with a yarmulke when she stopped at a deli, not knowing or caring it was kosher.
When she was surprised they would not give her cheese on her meat sandwich, he explained why. They got to talking and she liked the obvious spirituality and charm of the man. “If this is Judaism” she thought to herself, “maybe this is the religion for me.”
The man turned out to be a rabbi and encouraged her to call him if she had any more questions. She did and he answered her call somewhat late. He began politely inquiring about her. When he determined she had no boyfriend and lived alone, he moved on to asking what she was wearing.
It did not go the way this guy hoped. She said to him, “Rabbi, I don’t know much about Judaism, but my mother taught me about men” and she hung up.
Now, as a middle-aged woman, she told me, “But for Shlomo Carlebach, I might have become Jewish when I was a college girl.”