Read Online Stolen Innocence by Elissa Wall - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elissa Wall
Ads: Link
All we knew was that every day the problems seemed to get worse and the options seemed to grow fewer.
IN LIGHT AND TRUTH
The prophet can do no wrong.
— WARREN JEFFS
A fter all the struggles in our home, I longed for my mother’s pain to subside and for peace to be restored. That previous August I’d returned to Alta Academy a fifth-grader. While I wasn’t in an upper classroom yet, I was now in my second year with the big kids in the meeting hall for Devotional.
In addition to being our principal, Warren also taught a number of our classes. One of them was a class in priesthood history, which occurred every day and was considered the most important lesson in school. Uncle Warren would teach us everything about our religion’s history, starting from biblical lessons to the Book of Mormon and going through the life of Joseph Smith as well as the more recent developments in the FLDS. Uncle Warren would always use priesthood-approved scriptures to teach the lesson, and then he would explain them using his own words.
Part of the curriculum for older girls was to study In Light and Truth, an FLDS publication. The book was a collection of condensed sermons and teachings by Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, Uncle Rulon, and many others. Warren would read the various lessons to the girls, applying his own spin. He would even read the words of his own sermons in such a way as to make us believe that the words were coming directly from God.
We were encouraged to listen to tapes of Uncle Warren’s important sermons as frequently as we could. Often in school we would hear these tapes wafting out of the loudspeakers as we went about our day. We also listened to them at home the way other families would listen to music, and as I grew older, I took to listening to them on my own. I was dedicated to being a good student, even if I didn’t entirely understand every aspect of my religion. I searched for answers in the tapes and in my school lessons, rarely asking for help when I felt confused. If I didn’t understand something, it was better not to say it aloud than appear to be questioning priesthood principles.
Ever since the age of eight or nine, I had been taking a home-economics course along with the rest of the girls in which we learned the basics of running a household. Taking these courses brought us closer to our ultimate goal—becoming perfect priesthood wives. Kitchen abilities were an extremely important element of our lessons. Our individual teachers would separate us from the boys and lead us to the huge industrial kitchen just off the meeting hall. There, we learned basic cooking and cleaning skills that would ready us for the large families that would someday be ours. There were also classes in sewing. We all needed to be able to stitch our special church undergarments and the ankle-length prairie dresses that were a staple in our wardrobes, and some day our own wedding dresses. Most of my dresses were hand-me-downs from my older sisters. On special occasions, like my birthday, Mom would sew one just for me, and I looked forward to doing such things for my own daughters someday.
One afternoon in early December, it became clear that God was continuing to test my family. I was at school and had just finished enjoying my lunch of a tuna sandwich and an apple when Uncle Warren’s assistant, Elizabeth, poked her head into my classroom and summoned me to the principal’s office.
My legs shook as I followed Elizabeth down the hallway. I’d made this journey several times, and it had usually been for a “correction.” Turning the corner, I found myself holding my breath as I approached Uncle Warren’s office. I pushed open the door and nervously exhaled when I saw five of my siblings along with my mother sitting in Warren’s office. Uncle Warren was seated at his desk, as always. Mom’s brown eyes looked as if she’d been crying, and I knew something serious was going on. I quickly sat down in a chair facing
IN LIGHT AND TRUTH
The prophet can do no wrong.
— WARREN JEFFS
A fter all the struggles in our home, I longed for my mother’s pain to subside and for peace to be restored. That previous August I’d returned to Alta Academy a fifth-grader. While I wasn’t in an upper classroom yet, I was now in my second year with the big kids in the meeting hall for Devotional.
In addition to being our principal, Warren also taught a number of our classes. One of them was a class in priesthood history, which occurred every day and was considered the most important lesson in school. Uncle Warren would teach us everything about our religion’s history, starting from biblical lessons to the Book of Mormon and going through the life of Joseph Smith as well as the more recent developments in the FLDS. Uncle Warren would always use priesthood-approved scriptures to teach the lesson, and then he would explain them using his own words.
Part of the curriculum for older girls was to study In Light and Truth, an FLDS publication. The book was a collection of condensed sermons and teachings by Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, Uncle Rulon, and many others. Warren would read the various lessons to the girls, applying his own spin. He would even read the words of his own sermons in such a way as to make us believe that the words were coming directly from God.
We were encouraged to listen to tapes of Uncle Warren’s important sermons as frequently as we could. Often in school we would hear these tapes wafting out of the loudspeakers as we went about our day. We also listened to them at home the way other families would listen to music, and as I grew older, I took to listening to them on my own. I was dedicated to being a good student, even if I didn’t entirely understand every aspect of my religion. I searched for answers in the tapes and in my school lessons, rarely asking for help when I felt confused. If I didn’t understand something, it was better not to say it aloud than appear to be questioning priesthood principles.
Ever since the age of eight or nine, I had been taking a home-economics course along with the rest of the girls in which we learned the basics of running a household. Taking these courses brought us closer to our ultimate goal—becoming perfect priesthood wives. Kitchen abilities were an extremely important element of our lessons. Our individual teachers would separate us from the boys and lead us to the huge industrial kitchen just off the meeting hall. There, we learned basic cooking and cleaning skills that would ready us for the large families that would someday be ours. There were also classes in sewing. We all needed to be able to stitch our special church undergarments and the ankle-length prairie dresses that were a staple in our wardrobes, and some day our own wedding dresses. Most of my dresses were hand-me-downs from my older sisters. On special occasions, like my birthday, Mom would sew one just for me, and I looked forward to doing such things for my own daughters someday.
One afternoon in early December, it became clear that God was continuing to test my family. I was at school and had just finished enjoying my lunch of a tuna sandwich and an apple when Uncle Warren’s assistant, Elizabeth, poked her head into my classroom and summoned me to the principal’s office.
My legs shook as I followed Elizabeth down the hallway. I’d made this journey several times, and it had usually been for a “correction.” Turning the corner, I found myself holding my breath as I approached Uncle Warren’s office. I pushed open the door and nervously exhaled when I saw five of my siblings along with my mother sitting in Warren’s office. Uncle Warren was seated at his desk, as always. Mom’s brown eyes looked as if she’d been crying, and I knew something serious was going on. I quickly sat down in a chair facing
Similar Books
