I don’t know about the rest of you. But I love personal stories.
This really happened to me in Catholic grade school, around ages six-to-eight apparently.
I came home one day, clearly distraught. And my mother asked me what was wrong.
I told her they were telling me things in school that simply couldn’t be true. She asked me what. I told her they told us Jesus was Jewish and we speak English.
(We laughed about that one for years to come.) 