Well heres my story:
Grew up as a witness, my mother is a second generation. My father was so in love with here he stopped smoking and got baptized in Nurnburg, Germany.
School was hell. I grew up in the hippie-period, Amsterdam. Everybody smoking grass, long hair..and me?? The shorter the cut the better, my parents even inforced me once chasing me to get to the hairdresser!
So day after day I got tortured at school, named Jehovah-head!!
At the mean-time my mother had a lover, my father beat him up, police at our door every other day but still going out on service!
Finally my father got removed as a MS. Almost cut his pulse in front of my brother (12 years old), who had to get him to emergency.
I couldnt study, had to work at the age of 16 (dont worry I manage good $$$$ now!), because higher education was worldly.
Yeah right all they wanted was money. All I made they took away and give me pocket-money.
At the age of 19 my father hit my mother, and the same night I hit my father so hard he had two broken teeth!
But still going out on service and having talks at the TS.
Stupid enough I stayed home until 23 years old, I left and got married,
The rest is:
Bethel
Special pioneer-service
Missionary
Brooklyn and Patterson.
And now at the age of 40:
Making money
Smoking grass (Amsterdam you know)
Nice life he???