I was 16 years old when I got baptised - 1992 - it was at one of the two day assemblies. Only a few of us got baptised.
I pulled out the pictures - there I stood proudly with a friend of mine in our cosies (shirts over) towels wrapped around us. Then I have shot by shot me going into the pool, crossing my arms, getting dunked and coming back up out of the water - I don't know if I expected something awe inspiring to happen, a dove to fly on down or the heavens to be opened up, but I was a little disappointed.
Disappointed but happy, if that makes sense. Happy I'd done it and now I was a fully fledged JW. That day my mom gave me a beautiful chain with a little disc on it - the date of my baptism engraved on the back. I treasured that. Afterwards, my witness family and I went to celebrate with dinner.
How lighly that faith treats baptism. If one looks to christ for an example (as we were told to do) he was 30 years old - how did it not sink in that I was just a 16 year old girl with no much life experience and knowledge to make that kind of decision.
Then that same year at the BIG convention, my twin cousins got baptised - I burst into tears of joy because other family members were now in the fold and I was so happy.