Memories Of Childhood Essay

Childhood Memories Essay
It is obvious that all of our childhood memories are not accidental. When you are a child every
scent, every sound, every move, every toy, the first day of school, the first kiss, the first step.
Everything together makes what is the personality of a man. All these are pieces of one whole entity.
I was sitting and thinking which of the memories I have is the brightest and most emotional for
me is it the day when I stayed home alone for the first time? Is it the day when I was so
disappointed with the Christmas gift I got? Or maybe when I broke grandma's favourite vase and
put it back together with glue? I was thinking about good memories and bad memories moments of
tears and moments of innocent joy. From one memory to another my heart started to feel strange
and I felt really strange like I was in a completely another dimension which exists only in my head.
And then BANG! I got it so clear that I started shivering.
I was about 6 years old. My mum's best friend left to another town and asked my mum to stay at her
place with me for two days in order to look after her two sons. One was a little older than I was, and
the second boy appeared to be super grown up for he was already fourteen. I always enjoyed staying
at their place because they had lots of toys, a lot of space and video games, everything a child needs
to free the most sincere smile. I remember the second day we were supposed to have the welcome
back party for my mum's friend at here place.
I woke up, mum went
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Mostly the things I remember about being six had to do with simple suburban life: the driveway,
the front yard, the field down the side yard, the woods behind the house. My brothers and I were
always told "go outside and play," and we did. We biked, triked and scooted up and down the
driveway. Then there was a basketball to bounce. Lots and lots of running around and a version
of tag in the backyard we called "monster." My world was pretty clear and contained. Brothers to
keep up with, yellow dandelions along at the end of the driveway, the field full of pricker bushes,
milkweed pods, ugly sumac trees here, a grove of pine trees in the woods near the creek. All I
remember was play, except for church on Sundays. Except for times I remember...show more
content...
Instead of an organ, we had a rock band with a drum set. Our hymnal was called "Hymns Hot and
Carols Cool." Pot luck dinner always included lumpy casseroles made with textured vegetable
protein. Eventually men started showing up to church with go–tees and pony tails. Ours was a hippy
church.
And I guess the Easter I got arrested was some kind of hippy–church field–trip. It was Easter
weekend 1965, I think. To celebrate Good Friday, the day Christians remember Jesus's crucifixion,
my dad had collaborated with some of the black churches in the "inner city" to drive around Monroe
county and pray.There's an old Catholic tradition of praying "the stations of the cross" to
commemorate Jesus's condemnation, his walk of shame to the hill of Golgotha and his getting
nailed to the cross, and his last words. Catholics pray in church. We hippy protestants, it turned out
would gather together, black/white, old/young, city–folk and suburb–folk and wander around the
county picking places of inequality, poverty, and injustice to pray upon.
DRAFT Essay #6 family story
Hughes 2
It all started early Friday morning. We white Presbyterians took our yellow bus downtown to meet a
church full of black Baptists and there yellow bus , we mixed everybody up and then we started the
prayer–a–thon. As my father tells it, we prayed for fair wages at a plastics factory, for clean air and
water at a waste dump, for better schools at a crummy looking high school on the east side

Childhood memories can have a life lasting impact on every American in society. These memories
are the ones that help us to become a better adult later in life. Precious memories from my
childhood are essential to the person I am today due to the life lessons I was taught, while I was
growing up as a kid. Christmas, a celebration of joy in December, is a holiday that holds various
childhood memories. Although childhood memories created through the celebrations of Christmas
vary for each family.
On Christmas Eve, every year my mom has a box that she wraps up. Inside that box there are
always pajamas to wear to bed before we hit the day of Christmas. While my siblings and I are
upstairs in a room, Brittany and Stephanie (my cousins) started making clues up, to have us find
where the hidden box is. There is roughly ten clues, they have us going in and out of the house
just to find the box. When we found the box, we did all sorts of cheers to celebrate. The pajamas
that was in the box had a smell like pumpkin spice, it had a wonderful smell. The night was getting
late and it was time to get some sleep before the next day arrived. When my cousins left, my
parents gave my siblings and I permission to open one other gift before we went to bed. One way
we determined who got to pick the gift first was whoever found the Christmas pickle which was
hidden in the Christmas tree. We had to repeat it three different times so it would be fair for the rest
of us. Once we had opened our last

Childhood Memories
Childhood is the most innocent phase of man's life. With the passage of time, it fades into
adolescence and adulthood. Yet the sweet memories of childhood linger on. My childhood
recollections are those of a sheltered and carefree life, nurtured with love and concern. As I was the
first child in the family, everybody doted on me.
My funny lisping, my innocent mischief and my inane talk–everything was a source of immense
pleasure to them. There was never a word of reproach or censure against me. Once a distant uncle
picked me up from my school and, without informing my parents, took me to a fair. When I returned
home, it was quite late. I found everybody worried, anxious and apprehensive about my safety. A
frantic search for me had...show more content...
As one grows up, one feels more and more attached with hischildhood, the best period of a man's
life. A child has no worries, anxieties or worries.He is free from the dirty and filthy noise of
worldly tensions. Same is the case with me. When I recollect the days of my childhood, I feel very
much delighted; it was a pleasant period that I spent in high spirits.
CHILDHOOD MEMORIES
my childhood, I was carefree and had no worries at all. I used to wander like a deer in the open
fields, enjoying the natural beauty in the pastures.There are certain incidents that are still fresh in my
memory. Once a juggler with two monkeys came to our street. He showed monkey's tricks which
engaged our attention. The monkey fell in love with the she–monkey. She–monkey refused to marry
the he–monkey. He–monkey went to his father in law's house after wearing colorful dress. These
were the pranks that attracted me. I fully appreciated the tricks shown by the juggler. Another
incident, which I still remember, is the swimming experience. It was a Sunday when I, along
with my friends, went for a picnic to Okhla. Some boys were expert swimmers but unluckily, I did
not know how to swim. My friends dived into the river and compelled me to do the same. Soon, I
was caught by the current of water and was carried away swiftly. There was every possibility of my
losing life but due to the valour of one of my friends, I was rescued from the

My most fond childhood memories were not created in front of a TV or tablet screen; but rather
climbing trees and riding four wheelers behind my house. I did not grow up in a large
subdivision or neighborhood, I grew up in a country community on the outskirts of a small town.
We were thirty minutes away from the grocery store and fifteen minutes to the nearest gas station.
The freeness of the woods and wilderness has truly helped shape me into the person I am today.
My imagination blossomed and allowed me to create memories in the woods without the help of
apps like PokГ©mon Go and Snapchat. My mother was a young teen parent. She had my brother
while she was sixteen and myself when she was eighteen. For obvious financial reasons, we lived
at my grandparents' house in that small country community. My mom worked long days at a
minimum wage fast food job while my grandma took care of my brother and I. She missed out on
various school events and little league softball games to provide and keep food on the table. She
taught us to value the things we had in life and with hard work and determination you could
accomplish anything you set your mind to. My grandparents played a large role in raising my
brother and I. They helped provide us an environment filled with love, Jesus, laughter, and a little
southern touch. "Old school" values were instilled in us– we were taught respect and discipline,
something children are lacking today. While I looked up to my older brother, I wanted to

My Childhood Essay
My past was unforgettable. My childhood was more of learning lessons. There are great memories I
shared with lots of other people. It was the most grateful childhood; I must say I had. As a young
girl, I had enjoyed my childhood the most. Despite the fact that, it was hard for me to lived in a
place where I never imagined I had to live. I was a refugee kid living in a camp with lots of other
refugee children. There used to be lots of kids like me who would have to suffer every day for food,
shelter, or education. I spent my eleven years as a refugee kid, where I share lots of memories with
so many other kids. I have spent my childhood without utilizing any electronic devices, walking to
the school at least an hour just to get an education, playing sports outside for fun. While walking
outside our camp to other places we used to see a significant number of other rich kids playing with
their phones, or other technology. Seeing them being happy by getting whatever they want or go
wherever they can make me feel little jealous, but happy for them. So the children from my camp,
we used to play lots of games or any fun activity to shorten our boredom. We had a playground
outside of our camp where we would spend most of the time there playing jump rows, and hide
and seek. There used to be about thousands of children living in a camp, where I knew most of
them, however I had three closet friends Eva, Rita, and Myra, we were like best friends we used to
go out to play

Childhood Memories Dad said, "We're going for a ride on the bus." "Ride to where," I thought
excitedly. I remember waiting in the bus station; people going about their business. The bus we
got on was huge, with room for at least a hundred people, with plenty of room. It was a cold,
windy evening. I sat at the front so I could see out of the window. Bright lights were heading
towards us. It seemed as though we had been travelling for hours. The bus stopped a few times to
pick people up, on the way. A man got on and sat down near to us. "Hello, young'un," he said. I was
too frightened to answer; he was tall and wore a flat cap and an overcoat. Dad said, "Don't worry
son, this is your uncle...show more content...
"Come on, I'll show you to your room," she said. I was so excited. Dad picked up the suitcase and
followed Nana. I followed closely behind, marching up the never–ending stairs that seemed to go on
forever. "You can sleep in here," said Nana. The room was huge. It had three single beds. "I've put
the electric blankets on for you, your beds will be nice and warm when you get in them tonight."
"Electric blanket," I thought to myself. "We've only got hot water bottles at home." We went into
the kitchen where Nana had made us some supper. The kitchen was huge. My eyes, wandered
around. I noticed that there were some tins on the top shelf. But they were so tall. "Why are the
tins so big?" I asked my Dad, He replied. "They are full of powder, you mix it with water to make
soup." "Yuk powdered soup, how disgusting." As the night wore on my Nana said, "I'm off to bed,
I'll see you in the morning." We said goodnight to my Nana and off she went. She opened the
living room door to go up to bed. But instead of going upstairs she opened the door beneath the
stairs and went in, she must have gone under the stairs to look for something before she went to
bed, but didn't come out. That's strange, what could be so fascinating in there that she didn't come
back out. Dad said, "Come on son we'll

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