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When they colleted the offerings in my old church, the people that colleted them when to the basement and count them there. Well... I used to think that they used to go downstairs, pray and then God would come down from the sky and take the offerings to heaven. :)
At Catholic mass, during the receiving of holy communion, my mom had explained that the body of Christ was being given out to eveyone to make them more holy. My younger brother always believed that the reason people were chewing communion was because it had skin on it.
When I was at the christening of my sisters 3rd child. Her first child said as the Vicar approached, "Are you God". To this the Vicar with an air of self importance replied, "Very nearly my son, very nearly".
When I was young, I used to think only Mormons had cousins. This was because every time went somewhere, it was for a family reunion or family gathering where everyone flocked together. But when I was at school after vacation and weekends and told my friends what I did, they never ever spoke about having such experiences with any family or cousins and such. They only spoke of friends.
Hence. My believe (everyone at church talked about their family and cousins). . . . or so I thought.
As a child i was dragged to the local church of england church, down the road. Not being particularly religous or anything like that when my parents bowed their heads to pray before the vicer went the speak, i thought the back of the pew they were leaning their heads on was a communication device like a phone and tey were chatting the dead relatives. As i didnt know anyone dead i used to try and talk to the ladybirds ide crushed on the way down.
Now i dont go to chusrch any more, those ladybirds probably miss me.
I used to believe that the priests were married to the nuns. I couldn't understand why they had no children. I alos thought the pastor could have done a lot better than mother superior.
Because we lived close to the church my family attended, I always thought that people everywhere went to whatever church was closest to them -- kind of like school districts but for churches.
We used to go to the church that my great-grandparents did, but I don't know which denomination it was - one Easter, the Sunday School class had to fidget through the actual sermon, as we were old enough to do the Communion ritual... when it came my turn, I took a sip of the wine and said
"Who put beer in the Welch's Grape Juice?" I was about 6.
Since this was followed by the usual embarrassed adult silence, I spent many years believing that God always put beer into grape juice as part of the Adult ceremony.
I also used to believe that God would
kill you unless you sang slow, dirging mournful hymns. But you had to sing all the verses. I used to be so scared for everybody in my church because they didn't want to sing all the verses of "The Old Rugged Cross", and most times picked joyful songs - Somehow I had gotten the impression that God hated everybody and only liked them if they were miserable.
when i was a little girl i believed that the veils on a nun's habit were nailed to their heads and that they were all bald underneath it and that they slept in it and never took it off! that is what my brother told me. at religious instructions class i asked a nun if it hurt when they pounded the nails in. she took me aside into a cloak room and took off the veil to reveal her beautiful long hair
For those of you who have experienced the Catholic Religion, you know that Communion is presented as "the body of Christ." As a small child, I was horrified at the notion that people would actually "eat" Christ, and refused to participate...Of course, I was also curious about how they got His body formed into such neat little white round wafers.
When, in a Roman Catholic Sunday service the alter-boy rang a bell to signify "altering-of-water-to-wine", I believed that it was actually a MAGIC sound from God Himself.
It wasnt until I grew up (and luckily became an athiest) that I learned otherwise.
When I was about five years I liked to make funny faces to parents (actually to everybody) until my parents told me that if the church would start its chiming and I was making a funny face my face would stay like that forever.
In the Catholic Mass when you have the consecration, you say “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.” Until I was about 9ish I firmly believed we were supposed to be saying “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall believe you.”
As a kic growing up in Texas i thought that only hispanic people were catholic
I used to belive that ALL married people were Jewish. (I went to a Jewish dayschool) It never occoured to me.I was abt 4 at the time it made since. All my friends parents were married. However if there were seperated then they hadn't found the right person.
My family is Jewish, although we werent a religous family, the idea that we where different somehow from our neighbors in our New York neighborhood fascinated me as a child. I remember asking my neighbor Mary what her family's religion was. With her 5 year old New York accent, she responded "Catlick".
From then until I was about 9 or 10, I truly believed that Catholicism, had sometyhing to do with licking cats. As I was deathly allergic to cats, this both confused, and slightly frightened me.
When I was a kid, my mom always threw the left over quarters from the past week in to the collection basket. I always thought the preist used them to go play video games at the arcade.
I was very little; we were at a Catholic mass for Ash Wednesday. My mom carried me up to the front of the church, and while the priest was rubbing the ash cross onto her forehead, I pushed his hand away and yelled, "Why is God putting dirt on your face?!"
When I was a toddler, my grandmother took me to the Easter service, at which everybody holds candles. At midnight, lighted candles are brought from the altar and everybody lights theirs from these. When this happened, I burst into "Happy Birthday to You", much to the amusement of all, including the priest. (I have heard of one other kid who did the same, and I'm sure there have been others.)
When I was 5, I attended a Catholic Shcool in NYC. Back then, the nuns wore long black habits. They seemed to glide around the classroom and you could never see their feet. So, I believed God had given the nuns wheels instead of feet.