Serving the Greatest Artist of All
AS A young girl seven years of age, I began asking myself: ‘Why will I have to die? Is it possible to avoid death?’ I had been told that God takes away good people because he wants them with him in heaven. I still remember one of my classmates exclaiming: “It’s better to be a bad person because the good die first!”
I loved drawing, so I began to study art. At school, I had no opportunity to consider religious matters, nor time to take an interest in them. In fact, I used to tell my friends that to be religious, one needed a low level of intelligence. When I completed my art studies, I was given the post of art teacher in high school.
I loved my work and was also interested in Italian and foreign literature, chamber and symphonic music, and opera. The only thing religious I studied in that period was the iconographic subjects of painters of various epochs. Then I learned what being at the center of attention was all about, what exhibiting one’s own works felt like, what it meant to be highly esteemed, praised, and admired as an artist.
At that time, the art world meant a great deal to me, since it was there that I found the reason for the greater part of my existence. But the questions I had posed when I was seven were still present in my mind. I relentlessly searched for something deeper, something I could not as yet explain. I was an avid reader and asked philosophers for explanations. At all costs, I wanted a definite answer to my doubts.
I still had this confusion when I got married. After the birth of my daughter, my search for the truth became more intense. I tried to find it by painting, writing poetry, listening to music, reading books. Whenever I went to a concert and listened to the opening bars of the overture, my mind automatically went to God, to the Supreme Being I didn’t know, and I thanked him. During that period, I would often praise God for the beautiful things I admired—my sleeping baby, the colors of a landscape. “What a shame,” I used to exclaim, “that art, which could have so many beautiful things as its subject, should be used so much to describe death instead of life!” Some of the most splendid pieces of poetry and theatrical works are either hymns to pessimism or tragedies; some of the finest masterpieces of painting exalt death rather than life and its beauty. Why?
These contrasting sentiments greatly disheartened me, and I gradually began moving toward apathy. It was at that point that Jehovah’s Witnesses came to my door. As I listened to them, it seemed as if they were talking to me in a new language. God’s promise to make the earth a paradise sounded like sweet music to my ears. I began to read the Bible. There I finally found the answers to the questions I had not stopped asking since I was seven years old. God does not want man to die but intends to bless his faithful servants by giving them everlasting life on earth!
That was 1973. The following year I made a dedication to Jehovah and was baptized. It wasn’t easy to replace my impulsive and sentimental character with the spirit of true brotherly love, my self-centeredness with selflessness, and personal comfort with the spirit of sacrifice! I had to disown myself. Jehovah’s Witnesses have greatly helped, as have the meetings held in the Kingdom Hall.
The Great Artist has cleared up my doubts and perplexities. How grateful I am to him! That is why, since September 1984, I have taken up the regular pioneer service, spending 90 hours each month in preaching the good news of God’s Kingdom.
Serving the Great Artist and Creator, Jehovah, with my family is truly satisfying. We anxiously await the time when he will paint the most vivid picture ever; when he finally removes the old, wicked system that sullies and envelops this earth. Death will be no more, and art will then be exclusively devoted to life. Then, only beauty will be depicted, for by means of God’s righteous new system, misery and pain will have been eliminated forever.—Contributed.