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The snow was piling up outside the classroom window, and I had nothing to do but watch it. I usually had music class right after lunch, but today I was sequestered—along with two boys who were Jehovah's Witnesses—away from the rest of the second-graders while they practiced for the annual Christmas program. Missing the candy and songs at our Halloween party was still fresh in our minds.
"I'm sick of this!" I told the boys. "We miss all the fun, and these stupid holidays aren't even real. Why does everyone keep them?"
"But everybody thinks they're real," one of them explained. "That's why they do it."
"Well, when I rule the world, no one will keep them," I answered. "We'll do things my way then." One major point of understanding—the fact that I would be assisting Jesus Christ in His role of King of Kings—momentarily eluded this power-hungry 7-year-old.
"And I will be in charge," I added. "The Bible says so."
However, that time didn't come in second grade. Or in third or fourth. When I entered middle school, missing parties and cupcakes was replaced by skipping Friday night dances and my team's Saturday volleyball tournaments. It seemed that observing God's Holy Days and Sabbaths made me miss out on too much fun. By high school, the idea of sitting at home while my friends were at football games and proms was just too much.
Late one Saturday afternoon, after we came home from church services, I told my parents that I would not be going back with them the next week. They told me that they were disappointed, but knew they couldn't force their beliefs on me.
"Oh, it's not that I don't believe what you believe," I told them. "I'm just sick of missing all the fun on Friday nights and Saturdays."
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