I have been writing my story today, before I joined the forum, and my friends Linda and Trev have encouraged me to post it. Actually, I found it very therapeutic to write it al down. I hope it doeasn't bore you too much, as it is rather long. Here is the first part, my childhood.
I was born in November 1946, the oldest of 4 children, 2 more sisters and one brother, who all followed over a 5 year period. Miu had married dad in 1941, but they weren't JWs then, so he went to war, and was in the Normandy landings, while she worked on the land. The truth came to our family via my great - aunt, who moved in with my grandparents in 1943, and proceeded to try to convert the whole house. My grandad never succumbed, but my grandma and mum did, as well as her sister. When dad came back from the war, mum was almost ready for baptism, and dad started studying himself, made rapid progress and was baptised in July 1946, when I was well on my way. He told me years later that it was the JW teaching on hell that got him hooked - he had been to hell already as far as he was concerned, it was called Gold Beach in the Normandy invasion, and he was more than happy to accept a teaching that said he would'nt have to go back there.
For the first year of my life, we lived with my parents, but then we found a very small but reasonably comfortable house in the Normanton area of Derby. Life wasn't easy in the 1940's, as food rationing carried on until 1951 in the UK, by which time there were 6 of us in a two - bedroomed house, and it was a crowded but happy home. My parents were very zealous for the truth, and only illness would prevent us going to the meetings. My earliest childhood memories are all to do with the JWs, assemblies, which I hated, ministry, which I didn't like much, and meetings. When I started school I was the only JW there,although my sister and another JW girl started the next year, to my relief, and I soon found out how cruel kids can be to those who are considered differrent. I was avery quiet, shy child, having no real friends, and I was bullied incessantly that first year. Whenever I went home in tears, as I often did, my mum told me that Christians should expect to be persecuted, and Jehovah would be proud of me, but that didn't make the pain and bruises go away.
We used to meet in this horrible old building near the centre of Derby, with a leaking roof, poor heating and a creaking, partly - rotten floor. The brothers tried to make it comfortable, but it never was. The musical accompaniment to our singing was by an old brother playing a piano which some said was almost permanently out of tune, though I am not certain of this. One thing I do remember was the same brother used to suffer from flatulence during the meetings rather a lot, much to the annoyance of the adults and amusement of us children. One day, a rather heavy brother trod on the wrong part of the floor and went straight through, which gave us a little light relief and caused him some embarassment. The hall was near several pubs, and our Sunday afternoon meetings used to coincide with closing time. We used to get a few drunks wandering in to see what was happeming from time to time, and some fell into a drunken stupor and started snoring loudly, or passed wind, which made us kids laugh, though the adults didn't see the joke. Some of the older kids discovered that if the wind was blowing in the right direction outside, half - blocking the drainpipes with newspaper would make them produce an eerie howling sound, and the first time this happened many kids and some adults sat there terrified, we thought the demons we had heard so much about were coming to get us!
By the time I was 9 we had moved to a better hall, and as a family to a larger house. My great aunt was living with us by then, and she always seemed to be the one I ended up working with in the ministry, which I had started to like a bit more, though I still wasn't keen om the meetings. She was in her 70's by then, and has a loud booming voice, Every street we went on, however long, must have known we were on our way after the first door, she was so loud. She was a bit aggressive as well, putting her foot in the doors as soon as they opened, and refusing to budge until they had taken the literature. Resistance was futile, they were having the mags or books whether they wanted them or not. I remember the last time I went out with her was Christmas Day 1956, when I was 10. I really didn't want to go out that day, but she boomed "come on girl", which she always called me "we have Jehovahs work to do". Every house we went to had trees and decorations up, kids playing with their presents, mums cooking dinner, and several asked me what I'd had. It was almost embarassing to hear my great aunt snort with indignatin and boom out "we do not celebrate Christmas", without giving the householder a reason they could understand. I was offerred gifts at a few doors, and would have taken them, but my aunt kindly refused on my behalf. She caught bronchitis early in the following year, and never really recovered. She moved to live with a cousin in Suffolk, and died the following August. I was sad to hear of her death, but happy I didn't have to go on the service with her again.
By the time I was 12 and at secondary school, I was beginning to take the truth seriously, and thinking about baptism. I finally took the plunge in may 1961, when I was 14. It was the best day of my life up to then, my parents were so proud of me as I took my stand for Jehovah, my mum was crying tears of joy. The rest of my siblings followed suit in the next 3 years, apart from my youngesat sister, who never wanted to be a jw. She rebelled at 15, smoked, drank, used drugs and fell pregnant at 17. She married the father and, 38 years, two more kids and 7 grandchildren later she is still married to him. Apart from family weddings and funerals, she hasn't been to a kingdom hall since 1967, but she still lives locally, and we still get on well with each other.
Just over a year after my baptism, I left school with no real ideas about a career, but with a burning desire to serve Jehovah as well as I could, and my long - term goal was to be a missionary. My childhood was over now, and I was ready to move on to the next phase of my life. whatever it would bring...... to be continued