Not Without My Sister by Kristina Jones, Celeste Jones, Juliana Buhring Read Free Book Online Page A

first, and he assured me that no one would ever take my place.

Sundays were our Free Days and the only time I spent with Dad and our little family. I looked forward to Freeday, but dreaded the traditional afternoon Sunday fellowship. On one of these fellowships, everyone filed in to the big communal tent and sat down on rows of benches lined up in front of a television set.
Paul led everyone in a prayer and then announced excitedly, "This is a very special privilege. I have here in my hands a series called the Garden of Eden. Mo has allowed us here in Loveville to view these tapes, but no one must talk about it with anyone else or discuss what he looks like."

There was complete shock and silence, and then an excited buzz of conversation while the first tape was turned on. Except for a few trusted leaders, no one knew what David Berg looked like. His last name was never mentioned in internal publications and pictures of Moses David showed his face covered by an artist's drawing of a lion's head. This was done to protect his identity and whereabouts, as he was already a fugitive from the law. The media regularly printed articles about him—all of them negative—that raised public awareness and alerted government authorities around the world. All these cumulative reasons had led to David Berg—Grandpa Mo—living a shadowy life, guarded by his inner circle, who slipped from country to country with forged passports.
    I was curious to find out what Grandpa really looked like and stared hard at the screen as his image came up. He had deep-set eyes, a balding head and a long, pale blond beard. He was dressed in a dark-brown robe, and around his neck he wore a great big yoke—the kind of wooden thing worn by oxen—hanging from a chain. He fit the perfect image of what I imagined a prophet would look like.

It was as if Jesus had appeared on earth. Everyone drew a breath, as they oohed and aahed.'

"It's such a privilege—"

"What an honor—"

"Praise the Lord!"

The room went quiet immediately Mo began to speak. When he talked "in tongues," everyone joined in. They raised their hands in the air when he did and followed his every move. I looked from one person to another, wondering what on earth was going on. I didn't understand what they were saying. I didn't know how to speak in tongues. When they started weeping and crying, I wondered what I was missing out on. Sometimes, during united singing the atmosphere became emotionally charged and I felt a slight shiver, like goosebumps—had Jesus touched me? People said that was what it felt like. Everyone seemed as if they had been touched by Jesus watching those videos, and I wished that something would happen to me too—but it never did.

For the next few weeks, we spent many hours watching those videos. Mo preached on the Endtime, interpreting passages from the Book of Daniel and Revelations and explaining to us that a one-world dictator called the Antichrist would soon arise and usher in the last seven years on earth.
    According to his calculations, Christ would return to earth in 1993.

Everyone praised the Lord. No one seemed worried or terrified that the End of the World was about to occur. Mo said that meant the Antichrist would have to appear in mid1986—only five years away. I was almost seven years old. To me, five years seemed like a long time.

The
Garden of Eden
series marked a great exodus from Europe. Mo told us to move to the Southern Hemisphere, to escape the nuclear fallout that would soon engulf the West. Paul Peloquin announced that Loveville would soon be packing up camp and moving wholesale to Sri Lanka. We were not told this at the time, but I found out later that Mo and his team had moved from France, where the
Garden of Eden
series had been filmed, to South Africa, and then to Sri Lanka. We would simply be following in our prophet's footsteps.
A few days later, Dad told me that he had been asked to go on a scouting team ahead of the rest of us to find