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My pediatrician's nurse introduced herself as "Candy," the same name as my aunt's pet who had died. So, wide-eyed, I asked her, "did you used to be a DOG?" She didn't answer, just stuck me with a syringe, so I cried and tried to hide anytime I saw her after that, never knowing if she was, in fact, my aunt's old dog!
When I was little, I used to believe that whatever someone believed is what would happen to them after they died. Ex: If they believed in heaven and were a good person, then they'd go to heaven. If they believed in reincarnation, they would be reincarnated. If they didn't believe in any afterlife, than nothing would happen.
Then, I grew up and people tried to convince me that one belief was correct above all others and that everyone who didn't believe like me would go to hell.
I like my childhood belief better :D
When I was a child, I would always let go of my balloons when I was outside. I was convinced I was sending them up to Heaven to be with my grandparents.
When I was young at funerals people would say that the person who died was "gone to heaven" so for years I believed that our local graveyard was heaven
When I was younger, I used to believe that when you die, your whole body would go to heaven. So I always thought that you could just look outside and see someones body floating up towards heaven!
When I was a child, my family attended a church that frequently referred to the rapture (the miracle of being taken to heaven without having to die). But whenever I couldn't find my parents (while at a store or other crowded place), I would be terrified that the rapture had occurred and I was left behind. Years later, my friends told me they had this same fear.
I used to believe that when people die, they turn into a star.
When I was little, my family was relatively religious, so when I was caught lying I was told that I would "go to hell" for it. Afterwards I was always sent to my room. I started to believe that "hell" was just a clever "grownup" nickname for your room or another "time out" spot..seeings how thats where I always had to go for lying. I carried this belief up until kidnergarten when my teacher told the class about a time she misbehaved as a little girl and I told her "she need to go to hell for that one"!!
U kno the song that goes something like "what if God was one of us" i imaged that if God was one us then he must have a house and if he has a house he must have a phone number. if he had a phone number then angels must be answering it (because Gods busy watching out for us). So for a couple years i thought that heavan was a big house and after you die you go to that house and become a seceritary for God. You Manly answer the phone saying "God hotline please hold" or "for miricals press one for blessing press two etc.etc.
I also spent 2 years looking for God's phone number in the phone book.
One time when I was little, I accidentally let go of a balloon. I was crying and imagined the balloon up in balloon heaven crying for me too.
For some reason I thought for a brief time that only people who never got stung by a bee in their life would go to Heaven
I used to believe that God was filming you 24/7 on what you do, and then shows the finished picture to your parents when you died. This freaked me out, and, now, I know better.
He writes it all down, of course.
When I was about 6, I had this fascination with reincarnation (think I must have watched some programme on TV about it), and I was gonna write a list of all my friends names & put it in my pocket so if I died & was reincarnated, I could come & see them all.
It wasn't until a while later that I remembered that the paper would not be reincarnated with me...
I used to believe that our souls looked just our outside appearance, but dressed up in Victorian clothing. I don't know why I thought this, I just did.
Growing up a catholic, when I was 7 years old, it was time for my First Communion.
On this occasion all the kids of my age went to a special mass and they get to drink some diluted sacramental wine for the fist time.
We kids were standing in front of the altar, I was the farthest on the right. The priest gave the goblet to the kid at the left, everone drank a bit and passed it on. When it was my turn it was already empty.
As I didn't get to drink, I was afraid this would render the whole initiation invalid, and that with this formal error in my First Communion, I might be turned down at heaven's gate.
When I weas young I thought thet when people went to heaven they were put on conveyor belts, and one by one they got to chat a little with God, and then they walked around and drank coffee in the clouds forever.
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.
My parents are atheists, and raised me as such, but nearly everyone else I knew was Christian. So I'd heard the Christian answer to "what happens when we die" because I had religious friends who had deceased relatives, but I'd never heard the secular answer. All I had heard from my parents on the subject was my dad's jest; "heaven must be awfully crowded."
For the longest time I was convinced that there wasn't enough room in heaven for atheists, so - naturally - we were allowed to keep on living forever until some space freed up. Yup. Still kind of disappointed about this one, actually.
When I was little I thought that heaven was a glassed-in bus stop in front of the nearby re-patriation hospital, which was frequented by elderly patients
When I was about five years old, my older brother, and cousin were teasing me about how I was going to hell, and how the Devil was coming after me. For some reason, I was convinced that the Devil was the burger snatcher from McDonalds. Needless to say, I was the only kid I knew who didn't want to eat at McDonald's.