In the heart of my formative years, from the tender age of 17 to the seasoned 32, I was deeply immersed in the Church of Bible Understanding, guided by the steadfast leadership of Stewart Traill. This period was a journey of spiritual growth and unexpected encounters, each leaving an indelible mark on my life.
One of the most memorable aspects of my time in the church was my involvement in the donation program. This program was a unique blend of charity and commerce, and it brought me face to face with some truly fascinating individuals. Among them were Dr. Schlock and Ivan, each with their own quirks and stories that would forever be etched in my memory.
Dr. Schlock was a man of many purchases, always eager to buy in bulk and resell. He was a regular at our donation center, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of a good deal. One particular incident stands out. We had a box of dried pineapple chunks, a donation meant for the orphanage in Haiti. I sold it to him, emphasizing that it was for charity and requesting that he not contact the manufacturer for more. He assured me he wouldn’t, but his word was as fleeting as the wind. The manufacturer soon called, cancelling all future donations, and I was left with a lesson in trust and the fragile nature of charitable relationships.
Then there was Ivan, a man from the Soviet Union who ran a store in Brooklyn. His shop was a treasure trove of miscellaneous items, each with its own tale. Ivan would often buy large lots of expired snacks and potato chips from us, intended for the church. Our conversations were a window into a world far removed from my own. Ivan shared stories of his past, including his attendance at the wedding of a Red Guard general, painting a vivid picture of a life shaped by the Soviet regime.
One day, as we chatted over a pile of donated goods, Ivan pointed to a book from the Soviet Union. “This is how it is in America,” he said, holding up a book with a price tag. “Here, prices vary. But in the Soviet Union, this book would have the same price everywhere, set by the government.” He showed me the small inscription in the corner, a testament to the uniformity of Soviet pricing. It was a stark contrast to the capitalist landscape I knew, and it left me pondering the intricate dance of economics and ideology.
These experiences, woven into the fabric of my life in the Church of Bible Understanding, taught me invaluable lessons about trust, cultural differences, and the unexpected paths that life can take. They were more than just stories; they were the chapters of a life lived with purpose and curiosity, shaped by the people and places that crossed my path.
2%