A Witness Growing Up in the Hall

Saturday morning, I'd rather be watching cartoons. We hold hands in a circle and begin to pray for the day ahead. We have a serious task at hand. We have to save the world. Today we'll start at your door. Ringgg.Ringggg. I begin to pray to myself. God, please don't let anybody from my school live here or the hood open this door. I'll never here the end of it. No answer, goood. Relief. Next house, ringggg, ringgg, ringgg. Good another no answer. For me a sigh of relief. For the ladies I'm with, determination written all over their face. Let me clue you in. You wonder who are these ladies. Avon, No. Mary Kaye, No. We are the Jehovah's Witnesses. We have come to save your very soul. If only you'd open the door. Buy this brochure only 2.99 and you'll be on your way to paradise, we guarantee. Sometimes we actually got someone will to listen. 10 years before my mother was just that said person. She found that she liked what she was hearing and decided to include of course the kids. I loved to read and this at first seemed fun. The kids get a pretty orange book, full of bible stories. We had meetings, you call it church, 3 times a week. Sunday, Wednesday and don't forget Friday. When we started I was just 6 years old. I still loved Santa, and believed in the tooth fairy. Halloween was my favorite. As a witness. Those celebrations were considered a sin. Don't talk to strangers. Impossible for me. I talk to everybody. Don't celebrate your birthday. Lunacy I always thought. I lived another year, Hooray! No holidays ever. This did not work out for me.