My mom decided this would be a good clean break for us kids. We could start all over and make brand new friends with the kids in our new congregation. There were plenty of children there, too. We should have no reason to associate with "worldly" kids. That was her plan anyway. It didn't quite work out that way.

As soon as we move in, the kids on the block came by to play with us. My dad let us go off with them thinking it would be good for us to mingle with the neighbors.

The neighborhood we moved into was mostly white. On our block, there were three black families and one hispanic. The next door neighbor's kids keyed us in to what was about to happen. They were extremely prejudice. They played with us, but in a very demeaning way. Then out came the "N" word. I never heard that word before. I repeated it to my mom. After being clobbered and then told never to say that again, I figured out that maybe the kids next door really weren't nice.

The kids in the congregation were great. Sure we had to sit still and be quiet, but there were ways to pass time. My mom befriended a sister who had three kids. Those kids were close in age to my sister and me. My mom and this sister would sit next to each other at the meetings and us kids were right next to them. This sister's husband was not a witness either. She had so much in common with my mom, they became best friends. By default, we became best friends with her kids. (Names are changed to protect everyone's identity)

Sister Ortez and her children Karen, Patty, and James made arrangements so we could sit together at the big assembly. Although we were already assigned bussing arrangements and hotel rooms from the old congregation, we still sat nearby our new friends. I had the best of both worlds. My old friends and new friends. I was happy.

Of course, as good little witness kids, we were expected to sit still and take notes and follow along with the bible. My new friends showed us a way to bypass some of the monotony. We would open the bible to wherever they told us and try to find some perverted references and write them down and secretly pass them to each other. You'd be surprised at how perverted the first half of the bible can be to children who are told nothing about sex.

After the week of brainwashing, all us kids made a pact with each other that we would never stray away from the "truth" and we would go to "Bethel" or "Gilead" (both forms of advance service to the Jehovah's Witnesses) provided that, in the unlikely event, the world didn't really end soon.

Our new home had a basement with a lot of room to play. We now had plenty of room to play inside the house. My mom tried to make all kinds of excuses for us not to play with the neighborhood kids. Of course the basement became our favorite hideout. We would sing and dance to our pretend audience. It was our fantasy we knew would never come true. At least it was out of earshot of my mom who would only try to lay on a guilt trip for our "worldly" leanings.

Our next door neighbors moved out while we were at assembly. I noticed a lot more black families also moved in our neighborhood. It was starting to feel like a more comfortable neighborhood, just like the one we left.

Then school was to start soon.