Family Night Raid
Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2008 2:18 pm
Imagine, it's Monday night, and Family Home Evening is in full swing. Father has presented a lesson that he prepared on Saturday, Mother has fixed a half-dozen different kinds of treats, and the children have been participating earnestly in all activities -- including gobbling up the goodies mom made! Everyone is having a ball and as the spirit-filled festivities are drawing near their close, it's time for a game. James, a newly ordained Deacon, suggests "Fun for Family Night: Book of Mormon Edition". Everyone shouts, "Hooray!"
As the box opens and the contents removed there is a knock at the door. Father is puzzled as everyone he knows understands not to disturb at this time on a Monday. Curious though, he answers, and is greeted abruptly by two men wearing raid jackets ordering him to step back and put his hands behind his head.
The men burst into the house and order everyone to get down. The children cry. Mom pleads for mercy as more official-looking men fill the house and begin to examine the contents. A strange looking vehicle pulls up, and another squad of men get out and rush into the living room with a large case. The game that the family never got to play is put carefully into the case. A few books are pulled off the shelves, put in yellow bags, and tagged with official-looking labels.
Satisfied that the scene is contained, the family members are herded into seperate rooms by the officials. A long black car pulls up and three "suits" step out and casually enter the home. One suit enters the room where the very young children are being detained. He asks them questions. As they answer, he smugly corrects grammar. He reaches into his suit and pulls out a style guide and asks the children if they've ever seen a similar book. A few notes are made as the children look at each other confused and unable to answer.
Another suit joins the older boy, James, in his room. His associates refer to him as a "senior". The man questions the Deacon on a number of topics concering the ancient Americas. The young man doesn't know any of the answers and shrugs his shoulders admitting defeat. The man opens a briefcase and pulls out a sheet of paper, hands it to James, and explains that the writing is in Egyptian and constitutes a *test* of sorts, and requests the young priesthood holder to translate it the best he can. James takes a wild guess -- an incorrect one, apparently. The man states the minimum requisites for a conversation have not been met and leaves the room and walks toward the kitchen.
Mother sits at the kitchen table with her head burried in her hands as the "senior" enters, surveys the refreshments, wolfs down a freshly baked cinnamon roll and helps himself to a glass of milk while still holding his briefcase. He asks "what else she has" as if she's not even there, snoops around the counter a little, and then steps over to the kitchen table. He lays his briefcase on top, removes a file and begins writing down some notes. Some of it can be made out,
Father's detention is by far the most interactive. He is questioned by one who is called "fundraiser" by the others and is carefully lectured with great concern on "losing ground" and "new history". The inquisitor opens a briefcase and presents a number of handsome brochures to Father. While Father overlooks them, the man sits down, presses his index fingers into a steeple and stares past his present company, losing himself in his own thoughts. He muses softly about the next generation and the need for better resources, and then, as if catching himself from falling, the man abruptly stands back up and hovers over his briefcase. He selects four volumes, all translations of medieval medical texts from various languages, and hands them to a perplexed patriarch of the home. While Father numbly reviews the books, his visitor begins to prepare a bill of sale with the "Liahona" checkbox ticked. His resistances worn down, and with growing concern over his family, Father reaches into his wallet for a credit card and hands it over to the "fundraiser" who efficiently runs it through a portable credit card machine. The suit congratulates Father on making the "right decision" and quickly finds his way to the door. The other suits and officials follow and the entorouge disappears down the westward road.
The good news is, no arrests are made, and everyone is safe. But a dark feeling will haunt each member of the family and eternally they will question, "Why?"
As the box opens and the contents removed there is a knock at the door. Father is puzzled as everyone he knows understands not to disturb at this time on a Monday. Curious though, he answers, and is greeted abruptly by two men wearing raid jackets ordering him to step back and put his hands behind his head.
The men burst into the house and order everyone to get down. The children cry. Mom pleads for mercy as more official-looking men fill the house and begin to examine the contents. A strange looking vehicle pulls up, and another squad of men get out and rush into the living room with a large case. The game that the family never got to play is put carefully into the case. A few books are pulled off the shelves, put in yellow bags, and tagged with official-looking labels.
Satisfied that the scene is contained, the family members are herded into seperate rooms by the officials. A long black car pulls up and three "suits" step out and casually enter the home. One suit enters the room where the very young children are being detained. He asks them questions. As they answer, he smugly corrects grammar. He reaches into his suit and pulls out a style guide and asks the children if they've ever seen a similar book. A few notes are made as the children look at each other confused and unable to answer.
Another suit joins the older boy, James, in his room. His associates refer to him as a "senior". The man questions the Deacon on a number of topics concering the ancient Americas. The young man doesn't know any of the answers and shrugs his shoulders admitting defeat. The man opens a briefcase and pulls out a sheet of paper, hands it to James, and explains that the writing is in Egyptian and constitutes a *test* of sorts, and requests the young priesthood holder to translate it the best he can. James takes a wild guess -- an incorrect one, apparently. The man states the minimum requisites for a conversation have not been met and leaves the room and walks toward the kitchen.
Mother sits at the kitchen table with her head burried in her hands as the "senior" enters, surveys the refreshments, wolfs down a freshly baked cinnamon roll and helps himself to a glass of milk while still holding his briefcase. He asks "what else she has" as if she's not even there, snoops around the counter a little, and then steps over to the kitchen table. He lays his briefcase on top, removes a file and begins writing down some notes. Some of it can be made out,
The agent wrote:..to her credit, there are open containers suggesting the dough was manufactured from scratch...but there are several weaknesses that can't go without comment...advertised as cinnamon rolls but this is misleading...the raisin concentration very thick on the southwest qundrant while a paucity in the northern regions...glaze passable but modern practices include a hint of orange peel and overall flavor could have been enhanced by...it's a testament morever, to the divine sanction of Family Night that it is so successful despite the so-called desserts.
Father's detention is by far the most interactive. He is questioned by one who is called "fundraiser" by the others and is carefully lectured with great concern on "losing ground" and "new history". The inquisitor opens a briefcase and presents a number of handsome brochures to Father. While Father overlooks them, the man sits down, presses his index fingers into a steeple and stares past his present company, losing himself in his own thoughts. He muses softly about the next generation and the need for better resources, and then, as if catching himself from falling, the man abruptly stands back up and hovers over his briefcase. He selects four volumes, all translations of medieval medical texts from various languages, and hands them to a perplexed patriarch of the home. While Father numbly reviews the books, his visitor begins to prepare a bill of sale with the "Liahona" checkbox ticked. His resistances worn down, and with growing concern over his family, Father reaches into his wallet for a credit card and hands it over to the "fundraiser" who efficiently runs it through a portable credit card machine. The suit congratulates Father on making the "right decision" and quickly finds his way to the door. The other suits and officials follow and the entorouge disappears down the westward road.
The good news is, no arrests are made, and everyone is safe. But a dark feeling will haunt each member of the family and eternally they will question, "Why?"