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I used to believe that heaven was in the moon.
I was also taught about the end of the world and how the "good christians" would have to hide from the "beast" which supposedly was some government who wanted all religious people dead. I would cry because I thought that meant I would die or have to go into hiding before I was a teen, which meant I'd have no kids or be able to go places like Disneyland and basically not have a life of my own. That's pretty harsh for a kid.
When I was little, I was taught about heaven and how when we went there we'd be able to fly. I was also taught that if we had enough faith, we'd be able to do anything. Thinking that the only thing keeping me from flying now was my "weak" faith, I would think about God while jumping off a chair. Of course, I always fell and so concluded that in heaven people simply lined up behind one of those man-cannons, for their turn to be shot into the sky. They just fell slower.
I used to believe that when you died you became God for a few seconds until the next person died. Although it was only for a short time, it would feel like forever. And so there is no one God but it is the souls of everyone who is dead looking over and guiding everyone who is still alive, as they get a second to sparkle before moving on to let the next incumbent take the reins in Heaven.
All this sounds very nice but it is genuinely what I believed. As soon as I realised nobody else believed this, during primary school, I stopped believing in God and now have no religion.
Brought up as a Catholic, I was taught to take care of my soul so that I would be entitled to get into heaven in due course. I used to believe that my soul was a weetabix-shaped organ in the middle of my body. Well, not just weetabix-shaped. When I imagined it, it looked exactly like a real weetabix.
I used to believe if you sewed on Sunday, you would have to pick the stitches out with your nose when you died. I got this belief from my mother, who believed this until she was 35 years old. It had been passed on to her from her mother who believed it till the day she died. Being a seemstress, it was fortunate that a minister set mom straight.
I was quite startled to find that someone else (Holly?),had the same 'thing' as me , in that you could see things when you concentrated on the centre of fire.I'm not sure about it being hell,but.......how interesting !
I used to believe that when people said "Your soul is inside you", that your soul was an organ inside your body, and it looked like your liver.
I used to believe that when you died and went to heaven, you'd get a big stack of video tapes of your life. I was sure God has a bunch of survellience cameras watching you constantly and when you died you could see them again. I seemed to remember this upon doing something embarassing - sure that not only would I see it again, but that everyone in heaven was watching it at that moment.
when I was young my Grandmother used to
tell me to be very carefull not to drop salt on the floor because in heaven I will be asked to retrieve it with my eye-lids,& I believed that until my teens.
I once found 5 pounds on the beach and my older brother told me that I would not go to heaven unless I shared it with him.
The next day he made me and my sisters help him beachcombing to try to find more.
..I was told by my father that when you died they first would send you to Hell and fill you up with coal to first burn the evil out of you. Then you could go to heaven. Thats what Hell was for. He was just telling me this as a joke, but for a long time I thought it made sense.
I was told that relatives who die could 'watch over you from heaven'; every now and again, this thought creeps into the back of my mind, especially when doing something embarrassing or private. I wonder, 'who's watching me now?' I think this explanation of the afterlife could cause people to be paranoid, or at least add fuel to the fire....
Attending a religious school as a young child it was part of the day to read the life of a saint. Their heoric deeds were so far beyond anything I could imagine at a very young age, I made up my mind that even if I were the best possible behaved person all I could ever wind up being was an angel.
We were taught by nuns who were huge towering figures in long black robes and high headpieces covering all trace of any hair. Only their oval faces were visible from this all encompassing habit, and hands. Occasionally an orthpedic black oxford shoe would peek out from the hem of the voluminous garment. It took a very long time before I understood that there were people under the robes, and what's more they were women. In my mind they were a separate species, born to be nuns and nothing else.
I used to believe that heaven was a place where we could float about. There would be many large tables floating about piled high with ice cream. Somehow in heaven there were only children
When I was little,I used to believe that when a person died,If they were good,they'd get wings and,if they were bad,they'd grow horns
I thought that if you wore the colour red, you would go yo hell.
I used to believe that if you prayed for forgiveness for your sins, you would be "saved" and that made you a born again Christian, the only souls allowed into Heaven. And that all Buddists, Muslams, Catholics, and all peoles of the earth, except the born again Pentecostal Christians, would burn in hell for eternity.
I used to believe that the rays of light shining down from the sun were the pathways that dead people use to get to heaven.
When i was little, my parents would tell me to be good because my uncle was in Heaven with Jesus and they could see everything I did. So, I would always grab a towel and cover up with it whenever I would go to the bathroom or change so that they couldn't see me naked.
When I was a kid, my family lived 5 miles from Cheyenne Mountain, home of Norad. At 8 or 9 I had a lot of fear about nuclear war because we knew we were one of the first targets and we had air raid drills (not duck and cover) at school. Since my mom worked, I was afraid we kids would be home alone in piles of grey, flaky fallout. I asked Mom if the Russians dropped The Bomb, how would she get home from work to get us? I found her reply very comforting: "Don't worry, honey, if they drop the bomb, we'll all be instantly vaporized and we'll meet up in heaven."