"Carajo Pendejo! Uno no se puedes bautizar dos vecs! Porque le haces caso al pendejo de tu tio? Tu no sabes nada sobre la religion Aventista del septimo dia (Damn Fool! One may not baptist themselves twice! Why pay attention to a fool like your uncle? You don't know anything about the Seventh Day Adventist Religion) said my grandmother, loud enough so that one could see the saliva travel from her mouth to the side of the bed where she was sitting. After these words came out, I felt powerless to respond. Here I was wondering why my family was making such a big fuss about this religion business when in other areas they leave me free to do whatever I want. At this time I feel targeted for making my own choices. I either had two choices to listen to my grandmother's will or to follow my path.
"Wake up, it's time to go to church." said my grandmother. It was an early Sunday morning and my eyes were barely opened yet. Today was the day the Catholic religion worships God in their way through a priest. I remember not responding at all so I could fake the sleepiness I had, but the truth was I didn't want to get into an argument since I didn't want to waste time going to church. Today wasn't my day of worship. I worshiped on Saturday and only Saturday, but my grandmother didn't accept me for what I believed in. I couldn't take it anymore. I felt pressured by my choice and felt wrong inside. I didn't want to make her feel badly but I wanted her to understand that people think differently and this wasn't clear to her. Every Sunday I experienced this morning drama to get me to go to church. It would always lead into an argument on religions. Still I hadn't gotten baptized as a Seventh Day Adventist, but the process was almost complete. I was challenged by choice.
"Why go to church and believe in something you've never seen before, just come on and play football?" The crisis of switching religions also affected my friends. We used to wake up every Saturday morning to play football but that changed and this is what
caused a gap between me and my friends. I knew I wasn't going to lose a good friendship, but the thought of having them feel let down ran through my head. I would not stop something I was very committed to which made me realize how I became successful and independent by making correct decisions.
The third Wednesday of February, known as Ash Wednesday, is the day I'm viewed in different ways by my family who follows the Catholic religion. Looking at my grandmother, mom and sister on this day makes me look back and wonder how I was one of them just as anyone else in the community. The ashes spread against their foreheads was an outward sign of our different beliefs. What I really wanted to do was ask them "What's the point of the ashes?" because that's what I always wondered when I was younger when I used to wear them. This day is the day I become a minority in my community, because I am the only one out of every ten people not to have an ash across their head. By not going to get my ashes as my family was custom to made me happy since I felt for choosing the correct path.
"En el nombre de el padre, el hijo, y espirutu santo, Amen." (In the name of the Father, the son and Holy Spirit, Amen.) said Pastor Antonio De Jesus Vargas. As my head came out the water rapidly, I saw daylight and couldn't believe it. I had just gotten baptized as an Adventist. I looked up and my grandmother's voice went through my mind. As my uncle came to me he whispered in my ear, "That 's a real man, follow what you want. Don't let anything block the path that wants to create your life." My fears on how I struggled to get here were still keeping me worried. Nothing stopped me though, and being independent made me realize who I really was and what was the purpose of being on earth. From this day on, my life was in my hands. I was proud and proud to be accepted.
"Wake up, it's time to go to church." said my grandmother. It was an early Sunday morning and my eyes were barely opened yet. Today was the day the Catholic religion worships God in their way through a priest. I remember not responding at all so I could fake the sleepiness I had, but the truth was I didn't want to get into an argument since I didn't want to waste time going to church. Today wasn't my day of worship. I worshiped on Saturday and only Saturday, but my grandmother didn't accept me for what I believed in. I couldn't take it anymore. I felt pressured by my choice and felt wrong inside. I didn't want to make her feel badly but I wanted her to understand that people think differently and this wasn't clear to her. Every Sunday I experienced this morning drama to get me to go to church. It would always lead into an argument on religions. Still I hadn't gotten baptized as a Seventh Day Adventist, but the process was almost complete. I was challenged by choice.
"Why go to church and believe in something you've never seen before, just come on and play football?" The crisis of switching religions also affected my friends. We used to wake up every Saturday morning to play football but that changed and this is what
caused a gap between me and my friends. I knew I wasn't going to lose a good friendship, but the thought of having them feel let down ran through my head. I would not stop something I was very committed to which made me realize how I became successful and independent by making correct decisions.
The third Wednesday of February, known as Ash Wednesday, is the day I'm viewed in different ways by my family who follows the Catholic religion. Looking at my grandmother, mom and sister on this day makes me look back and wonder how I was one of them just as anyone else in the community. The ashes spread against their foreheads was an outward sign of our different beliefs. What I really wanted to do was ask them "What's the point of the ashes?" because that's what I always wondered when I was younger when I used to wear them. This day is the day I become a minority in my community, because I am the only one out of every ten people not to have an ash across their head. By not going to get my ashes as my family was custom to made me happy since I felt for choosing the correct path.
"En el nombre de el padre, el hijo, y espirutu santo, Amen." (In the name of the Father, the son and Holy Spirit, Amen.) said Pastor Antonio De Jesus Vargas. As my head came out the water rapidly, I saw daylight and couldn't believe it. I had just gotten baptized as an Adventist. I looked up and my grandmother's voice went through my mind. As my uncle came to me he whispered in my ear, "That 's a real man, follow what you want. Don't let anything block the path that wants to create your life." My fears on how I struggled to get here were still keeping me worried. Nothing stopped me though, and being independent made me realize who I really was and what was the purpose of being on earth. From this day on, my life was in my hands. I was proud and proud to be accepted.