www.whyville.net Aug 2, 2009 Weekly Issue



Mylo9810
Times Writer

Childhood Memories

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Memories come flowing back to you whenever you see old things. Ah, memories; they just make your heart soar, or cause your mind to scold yourself. Whatever it is, they're still that: memories. You can sometimes still taste the yucky so-called cherry flavored children's medicine. Or, it may be just a faint remembrance of something, unable to recall the feeling. Just remembering it, knowing it happened, but not feeling the embrace of the time all over again. I am speaking of what you have already guessed. The memories of childhood.

They seem to come and go so quickly. I am still young, but it feels like all of the times when we looked up to the 'big grown-ups' as if they were giants are now out of my reach. I remember always wanting to look like one of those 'giants', and I waited so impatiently. Every centimeter I grew made me so happy and excited. I would squeal and adore the birthdays every year.

Then, there were my childhood friends. I would always bring my huge white-with-black-stripes bag, and the boys would ask me for candy. You see, I always packed up toys, gum, candy, brushes, and all of the like. My friends called that bag the 'endless bottom bag'.

Back at home, the butterflies would dance around me, drifting on the endless currents of the wind. Running about in the huge lawn of our yard, I would circle the house until I plopped down on the freshly cut grass. The scent of so unbearable, I would eventually rise up from my lawn and stumble back inside. I would reach as high as I could on my tippie toes, and grasp one of the little, colorful cups, and walk over to the freezer. The freezer held the plastic ice things (at least I called them that those days) that you made your own ice in, rather than having the refrigerator do all of the work. I would crack it by the bottom, then let some of the ice plop into my cup. I made my way to the sink, filled it up, and went straight back outside while taking a couple sips.

Having a bright smile the whole way, I would step into the world, thinking that I was perfectly fine and I would do better than all of the grown-ups out there! But, deep inside, I always felt that coldness. I was perfectly aware of the thefts, the car crashes, the pain and agony of death. I knew all about guns and knives and weapons and the military. Yet I always pushed that out of my mind, feeling that it wasn't time for me. I never desired to study deeper or know more of those 'stinky' things. Instead, I wanted to have my own path. I wanted to play out in the back yard beside our canal, I wanted to play outside whenever I wanted to, I wanted to be allowed to cross the street.

But that doesn't seem anymore. Now, I'm stressed. I understand all of these political things, I know all of the burglaries, the nasty sicknesses, all of the abortions. The people that die every day.

I try to savor every last bit of it. Though, everyone can say this: sometimes this world can be a cruel world.

 

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