The Words of the Reverends Fleisher

Life in the Boulder Nursery - 1983 to 1986

Gelo Resh-Dor Fleisher
December 1997

Well here is my condensed account of me and my brothers stay at boulder nursery. If you want me, my brother, or my sister to write more testimony's, just ask.

I was born on July 31, 1981 and my younger brother , Yongil, was born on April 6, 1983. Our Parents, Gary and Alice Fleisher, were early members of the Church and were matched in the 1800 couples blessing. A few months after they were married, our father was called to be a missionary in Israel for over four years. Our parents were once again called apart soon afterwards and were constantly moving because of different church activities.

When I was four years old, and my brother was four months old, True Father, called the first generation to save America. Our Parents left us at Bolder Nursery and went their separate ways once again. I was too young then to remember what I thought, all I recall is not knowing what was going on. I remember my brother crying, and my mother saying she would call us every day. My first coherent memory was at Boulder Nursery, I was dressed up as a toy soldier for a play.

I never really understood where my parents were, but I remember looking at a picture of them that was hanging on the wall. My parents came to visit once every few months and I always remember how sad I was when my mother left. For my father, it was a different story. Since he had lived with his father for only 4 months, my brother did not really know who he was, to him, he was the man besides mom in the picture.

Whenever he came to the nursery he would bring some cookies with him for us. Because me and my brother were bigger than the other children we were always suffering from lack of food. My brother would always rush into my fathers stuff and eat the cookies. But he would not know who the man with the food was, so he would look cautiously at dad, take a nibble, take another look at dad, and eat some more. My brother did not know English, only Japanese, so I had to translate for him to my father. Even though my brother did not know my dad very well, he was always sad when he left. I remember trying to comfort him on the steps from the nursery after a visit.

It was like this for three years, I have only a few memories of that time. My aunt and uncle giving me a toy, Mrs. Sato (the leader of the Nursery) giving me a hair cut, my mother leaving out of the kitchen door telling me to be strong for my brother's sake... On the fourth year of our stay in Boulder Nursery, the providence for the salvation of America started coming to an end. As more and more of my friends left the nursery, me and my brother relied more and more on each other. We were moved into the same room with an on-nee named Rebecca.

She was my first real mother figure. I remember her telling me to brush my teeth. I replied that I did, but she checked the toothbrush and found it dry. From then on I always watered my toothbrush. For some reason this is my most vivid memory with "Auntie Rebecca". Last year my family moved back to Colorado and I finally got to meet "Auntie Rebecca" again. It brought back a lot of old memories, and funny enough, the tooth brush story is what she remembered most as well.

Toward the end of 1986, my parents finished their missionary work. They had given birth to my sister, Sammi, on December 11, 1986. I remember my mother taking us into a small sun-lit room where I first saw my sister. I thought this was the reason for the visit, but she told us that we were going to New York to start our life together as a family. By this time, most of the other children had gone and I was getting lonely, so I was not sad at the news.

Perhaps my most vivid memory of my entire stay at Boulder was my last night there. My mother woke us up early in the morning to get us on the plane. She asked my brother if his shoes were to small (she had bought an extra pair just in case). He replied no, so mom put the shoes in one of the moving boxes, and taped it up. When it was time to leave, my brother announced that his shoes were to small. The plane was about to leave at any minute, so my mother frantically opened all the boxes. When she had finally taped them back up again, I realized that I had lost Cutey Bear. Cutey Bear had been Auntie Rebecca's bye-bye present to me and I was adamant not to leave it behind. We searched and searched but could not find it. We ended up leaving it behind, but Auntie Rebecca heard about this and got me another which I still have.

We left the nursery an hour behind schedule but the plane was delayed and we were able to get on board. It was my first time in memory that I had gotten on an airplane and I remember being scared out of my wits. After what seemed a millenium, we landed in New York where my father, in a pink shirt, picked us up. This was the end of our time in Boulder and the beginning of our family.

As I look back on that time, I am surprised that I have no resentment against my parents. I know that a lot of BC's are really angry at their parents or the church. I guess it was that time when my mother told me to stay strong, and my memories of how sad my parents were that made me understand what they did. My father and mother are always sad when they talk about that period in our lives but I look upon it with pride. My parents saved this nation and I can never be mad about that.

Well that is the condensed version of the first part of my life. If you want to know more E-mail me at fleishers@denver.net.

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