Making an Atheist (Part 1)

     Once upon a time a young man and woman fell in love and decided to get married. There was no impediment to their union, but they were from two different religions. He was Roman Catholic, and she was Presbyterian. Due to the traditions and dogmatic restriction of the Catholic Church, in order for them to wed "in the church," the woman had to sign a binding contract agreeing to raise any children born to the couple as Catholic. The bride did not hesitate because marrying the man she loved was the only consideration, and besides, his family were devout and regular churchgoers. Her religion was not central in her life anyway, though she did enjoy going, whether or not she knew what, or if she believed.
     The couple married and two  years later welcomed a bouncing baby boy. A year later, a little girl was born. As promised, the two were raised Catholic. They attended catechism and learnt the beliefs and dogma of the church. They made their first confessions and "first holy communion."  They did not however, attend church on a regular basis because their father, in order to avoid the wrath of his own mother had been lying about his attendance before his marriage. He wasn't really going to mass, and really didn't buy into the dogma or creeds of the church, but rather ditched on Sundays and went to work, or out with friends instead. This man saw the church as a scam, always looking to weasel him out of ever more of his hard-earned money. He did not hold these views back from his children.
     As the two children progressed through catechism, the boy, a highly intelligent and thoughtful lad, became skeptical about what he was being taught. He recognized inconsistencies and the many illogical leaps he would have to make in order to actually accept the teachings of the nuns and priests. He raised such questions, which were not only discouraged, but were met with scorn and criticism. Though he grew to despise the entire process, and broached the issue with his parents, he ultimately did as he was told and made his confirmation along with his sister, who more readily believed what she was taught without question.
     During the time of their indoctrination, another child was born into the family. The little girl was 7 1/2 years younger than her sister and 8 1/2 years younger than her brother. She was four when she watched her older siblings don robes and make their confirmations. They both happened to be ill on the day they were confirmed. but their parents made them attend the ceremony which, by all accounts was more to please their paternal grandmother, who was the "holy roller" of the family and expected all of her grandchildren to become good Catholics.
     After the duty of seeing the eldest children confirmed, church attendance became increasingly sporadic, so the youngest was mostly exposed to mass on holidays. The little one always looked forward to those Sundays, but not because of church. No! It was because after church they went to visit two of her father's friends: the florist, and the baker. At the florist, the girls were permitted to choose corsages for themselves and their mother who stayed home, making a grand breakfast.  The boy chose boutonnieres for himself and his father. They all smelled wonderful! Once the flowers were purchased, it was off to the bakery. They always entered through the back door directly into the production room. The aromas of baking breads, cakes, cookies and pies were intoxicating. It was wonderful to simply stand in the room and breathe. While there, the father bantered with his baker friend while he chose loaves of rye bread and some pies to bring home. The children were sent up to the retail counter, and each chose their favorite cookie to eat while their father enjoyed his friend. ... and so it was that the children were raised in the church of friendship, generosity and appreciation.
     Four years later the call to duty rang again when it was the little girl's turn to begin her formal religious education. She was in second grade when she started attending catechism every Saturday morning. In preparation for this, her mother taught her to memorize some of the ritualistic prayers that were said during the mass. The little girl didn't mind learning the prayers or going to the classes at first. She found the elderly nun who taught her to be quite intimidating, and she was very curious about why the woman dressed as she did, and why she was so stern. Then, one Saturday, an assignment was given that changed everything for that little girl. That little girl was me, and the next part will relay the story of how one assignment had opened the eyes of an eight year-old, and her atheism was  born.