10.06.2005

Yippee Skippy

We have inherited a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses. Joy. I guess the people living here before us weren’t able to shake them either.

A few weeks ago, as I was loading the car up to head over to Chuck E. Cheese’s for Princess Trouble’s birthday party, a couple approached and asked if “Amy” was home. Amy is the woman who used to live here. We moved in last May...5 months ago. They’ve left a few pamphlets on the screen door so I knew who they were when they showed up.

Either they are persistent or just don’t take a hint very well. Given the fact that Amy did not tell them she was moving nor did she get in touch with them for the past 5 months (because she had moved), you would think these people would clue into the fact that Amy did not want to talk to them. But, no.

Nevertheless, once I told them that Amy no longer lived there, they switched gears and started in on me. Usually this is a bad move. I do not like anyone preaching to me. If I want to know about your religion, I’ll ask you. Don’t try to convert me and don’t push your Bible down my throat.

But I must have been in a good mood that day. I took their pamphlets and they were on their way. I hoped that would be the last I would see of them.

But no.

Just as I was wrangling the kids into bed for naps, the doorbell rang (note to self : put sign up by doorbell, instructing people NOT to ring the doorbell between 1 and 4 pm). And it was THEM. They are a cute couple. Asian. She is young. He is older. She does most of the talking – in very broken English – and uses him as her dictionary/thesaurus. Luckily, it was painfully obvious that I was in the middle of something so they, again, handed me the pamphlets and highlighted a few articles, and were on their way.

When I was 12 or so, my brother got married. The woman he married was a Jehovah’s Witness. I didn’t understand it then – all I knew was that he no longer celebrated birthdays, Christmas, or any other holiday. No skin off my back. But then they had a son and my dad wasn’t allowed to buy his first grandson gifts for any reason. That hurt my dad’s feelings. I still didn’t understand anything about being a Jehovah’s Witness. I knew I didn’t like the concept of the religion but I didn’t know anything that would back up my gut instincts.

So today, when this couple showed up on my doorstep (again), I decided to do a little research. I’m not going to list all of the things about that religion that I disagree with (it is extensive) but I will say that their stand against service in the Armed Forces goes against pretty much everything that my family stands for. And that is probably the one thing I will focus on the next time this couple drops by.

I do not wish to debate theology. I am not well-versed enough to do so, nor would I want to even if I were. To each, their own. Far be it from me to tell others how to live or what to believe. But do not come into my house and tell me that what my husband does for a living and the convictions he holds are a sin. It is his service, and the service of all who serve in the military, that allows people to worship in whichever manner they choose.

I believe my mother used to say, “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

I'm almost hoping they show up again soon. Not REALLY, but when they do, I am prepared. I'll invite them in, offer them some ice water, and let them take in my Americana-themed living room and kitchen. I'll tell them all about McGyver and what he does as well as BOTH of his brothers and what THEY do. And my FIL. And my dad. And my grampa. And both of McGyver's grandfathers. And...


Hopefully they will get the picture. If not, I'm sure my bluntness will make it perfectly clear.




Pau.




- hfs

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