I got my first taste of church when I was in sixth grade as my mom decided to start taking us to Easter and Christmas services. Easter, with all that candy always seemed like the good version of Halloween minus the costumes and trick or treating. I mean, why get all dressed up to go marching around all night knocking on peoples doors when you can get a peaceful night of sleep, wake up and have your basket full?

I remember coming home from church that year and having our Easter baskets all out on the kitchen table. Being that my dad didn’t go to church, it must have been his turn to be the Easter bunny. The funny thing was that my dad too got an Easter basket. It was filled with grass and jelly beans, with a bottle of beer in the middle. Nice touch, Mr. Bunny!

Church was fun, they fed us doughnuts as I first heard of a man they called Jesus.

A month or two later I found a pocket size bible at a garage sale and began to carry it around. I had no idea what it said, I just thought it was cool and different.

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