Dad was such a geologist through and through. He seemed to think that whatever wasn't solid as rock was pure mythology. For us as kids, that meant lots of Rocks, but no Santa Claus, no Tooth Fairy, no Easter Bunny, and no God.
When I look back on a childhood of not believing in Santa Claus, it doesn't seem sad or deprived. We just knew that our parents got us gifts, but some kids believed Santa was real, and so we never tried to blow the secret for any of them. It just wasn't a big deal. At least that's how I remember it.
The question of believing in God was almost, but not quite, as simple. There were just so many references to God, all the time, from all directions. I distinctly remember seeking confirmation from Dad. And I was ready to join in, in solidarity. I just had to make sure. "Dad, we don't believe in God, right?" And he said, "Well, I don't believe in God. I don't know if you believe in God. You have to figure that out for yourself." I think I was five.
In the first grade, it dawned on me that I should not be required to say "under God" during the Pledge of Allegiance because we didn't believe in God. I brought it up with Dad and he seemed to recognize my dilemma. So I asked him to come and tell Miss Biggler that I was excused from that part of the pledge. But he said, "You can tell her yourself." ...!!!... That helped me realize that my civil liberties weren't really being trampled on so much. I had nowhere near the gumption to tell her!! From then on, I just remained quiet during those two words of the Pledge.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Three sisters telling stories about shared family experiences. This is the best idea for a blog I've ever seen. I enjoyed reading each of your posts. I'm going to ask my sisters and brothers to do something like this. I can imagine that you are learning something from each other as well as offering your stories to share with others like me. Judith, I grew up with Love Lifted Me too. I still know the lyrics to over 50 hymns by memory, sometimes more than one verse. After all, in my Southern Baptist Church in Oklahoma, we sang at least 3-4 hymns every service -- Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday evening. Since Love Lifted me was a favorite of all, I probably sang that one 300 times.
ReplyDelete