Little Scenes from Childhood

I have often wondered why we remember certain scenes from childhood. Why these and not others? What is so precious about these flashes of memory that make them dear to us? What is so important about them that the memories of them linger still?

Here are some little scenes from my childhood that I remember from when I was seven years old or younger:

Margaret, the girl who took care of me — I can picture her standing by the sink, one hand on hip, drinking a glass of milk every night before she went to bed

When my father told me stories, he didn’t begin with Once about a time. He began with One tiny little thing…

The expression on my mother’s face when she would open up the very hot oven and the hot steam would hit her face

The field across the street from where I used to live

Being scared of cemeteries

Having so much fun on Halloween and 4th of July

The book Clematis that I read in second grade that meant so much to me

How an aunt of mine would cut an orange in half and eat it with a spoon like a grapefruit

When my niece was three and I was six — we would soap down the bathtub and slide down and never get hurt

How my sister Sylvia, my niece’s mother, would smoke a cigarette and her eyes kind of squinted

When I would stand in the back yard with my arms out as far as they would go, and my brother Sid would aim his BB gun at my hands and not miss and how it stung

When I used to ride on Sid’s back and I would try to hold on, and he would throw me off every time. We called it Bucking Bronco.

When my brother Bennie brought me a puppy and how good my brother Bennie always made me feel

How my sister Eleanor and I would pick violets every spring down at the dingle

When I would hammer nails into boxes at my father’s store

When summers were for doing just whatever you wanted

There must be more childhood scenes, but I’m not going to dig them up. I’ve done enough! I do wonder why I remember these so well, and some other childhood scenes not at all.

What are some of your lasting scenes from childhood?

Posted by Gloria on December 17th, 2007 under these topics
Family Stories, Purely Personal, Godwriting Journal

Post Discussion

8 Replies

Reply from Jo on December 18, 2007

Playing outside with the neighborhood kids in the dark on a warm summer night. The metal lunchbox my father carried that always had an orange and celery sticks included. Watching chicken pox break out on the neck of my classmate in 1st grade. Giggling in church with my brother when all was quiet because it was just so hard not to. My uncle sitting me on his lap and telling me that my freckles were beauty marks or angel kisses. Sitting around the campfire and looking up to see the Milky Way…

Reply from Gloria on December 18, 2007

Jo, you have the BEST memories.

Looking up to see the Milky Way! Like poetry.

How individual each of our memories are, and yet how easy to relate to. And how revealing.

I think I’ll do an additional list sometime. You inspire me, Jo.

Reply from Mary on December 19, 2007

Playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and Fur Elise every Sunday teatime, to wake my daddy up after his Sunday afternoon siesta. It was my way of telling him that it was time to wake up, and then he’d pop his head round the door and grin and make funny faces at me!
Every time I hear either of those two pieces now, it reminds me of then! :)

Watching my daddy paint the ceiling with a knotted white handkerchief on his head! :)

Putting the Christmas tree up on Christmas Eve, and putting real white candles on the end of every branch and a white and gold star at the top! :)

Watching mammy make apple pie. :)

Sitting in front of the fire watching the dancing flames and making pictures out of them. :)

Standing in the back yard and looking up at the sky, and making pictures up there too! :)

…and I still do the last two even now! :)

Mary :)

Reply from Gloria on December 19, 2007

Oh, Mary, your memories are so touching. Very beautiful. Like poetry too. Your images come to life.

I have already started a second list of early memories.

I wonder what memories our children have of their early childhoods.

Reply from Mary on December 19, 2007

Can’t help you on that one Gloria ~ I don’t have any physical children this time around!

Hey Gloria ~ is it ok for us to ask questions, or to post a new comment in this bit?

I’ve only just started to remember to check this section out as well as the HL site.

‘cos I’d just love to know more about your upcoming new exciting adventure ~ what little I do know sounds just fantastic!!! :)

Reply from Gloria on December 19, 2007

It’s absolutely all right to ask questions!

The general idea of this once-in-a-lifetime motor home trip is to go around the United States all the way to Argentina. Along the way we will give workshops, see places like Mt. Shasta in California and the white desert of Chile. The purpose of the trip is to spread peace, unite the two Americas, and, of course, have a wonderful time.

Two Heavenreaders who sponsored Godwriting workshops are committed to coming along, Carol Mauer of Montana, and Michelle Gabler of Nevada. If the trip can still fit their schedule, Toni and Philip of Washington State will form a caravan. There’s a possibility of another gentleman as well.

Santhan is the tour director! He will have more details for us later.

Thanks for asking, Mary.

It is anticipated that the trip will take three months.

Reply from Mary on December 20, 2007

Oh how wonderful!!!

It all sounds so exciting Gloria. I’d love to do something like that. I feel like I’m ready for another joyous adventure too, in this wondrous gift of Life!

:)

Reply from Pam (fortheloveofGodde) on December 23, 2007

Now that it’s so close to Christmas, my memories right now are of that time.

Counting presents! Didn’t matter what was in them, but we always counted to make sure all three of us got exactly the same number … lol.

Always got one big present for the family. One year was a huge toboggan which we put to immediate use on the snow hill across the street from our house. All of us fit.

Another year was a huge family-sized canoe that we used for years. Which now reminds me of our summers.

We never took “hotel” vacations. We went camping. I remember going to the UP in Michigan to the beautiful wilderness and begging to go the dump to watch the bears!

Camping in rain cloud in Smoky Mountain National Park (you could see it as you went down the mountain). In the same park, saw the most beautiful albino skunk–just as it was waddling right under our trailer. We stayed very still and very quiet until it decided to leave!

Most embarassing camping story: My dad, who thought he was a master builder (that’s another whole set of stories) used a boat trailer as a base and built a camper out of wood. Omigosh, the looks we got. First camping trip, it rained, of course, and leaked from every nail hole because he forgot to caulk the thing.

Well, this blog and entries and memory jog sure brought a smile to my face. THANK YOU one and all … Pam

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