Sent in by Mary S
Being the offspring of Polish and Italian parents it was a given that I should be raised Catholic.
My brother and I attended Catechism on Wednesday afternoons while we attended public school. When I was eight years old I somehow got the courage to ask the nun how different languages came about. I already had an idea of how it happened, people moving around, etc. Well, she proceeded to tell the story of the Tower of Babel and how God got mad so he changed the languages so they couldn't yell down for the tools needed. At the tender age of eight I just wasn't buying this story, I wanted a more realistic answer.
After that I just daydreamed in Catechism class and never heard another word a nun said. I don't think an eight year old has a grasp on what the meaning of a god really is, but it's safe to say I never believed in a god, and to this day am very thankful to that nun who gave me liberty to my mind.
Since then I question everything -- how and why, mostly.
I don't even remember her name, but I do thank her for freeing my mind.