The house was a small, white cottage-style with black trimming and a beautiful flower garden that led up to the front door. I can still smell the aroma of freshly cut flowers that would occupy the crystal clear glass vase on the dining room table. There were draping, well-established grape vines that covered the wooden arbor as you pulled into the driveway. It was the house my Grandma had lived in for most of her life and you could almost see the memories that encumbered the atmosphere. When I entered her house it was usually through the back door where I would have to navigate my way through the very flimsy, squeaky screen door that lead…
It was a small three-bedroom brick house, with six of us living in it. I was just a baby then, but I do remember certain things about that house. We had a dog that lived on the front porch, and my sister had a cat. The girls and the boys each shared a room, and my mother had the third, which was rarely used, and again I was young so I don’t quite remember everything. My mother usually slept on the couch though, at least that’s what I do remember, and I’m not really sure what the third bedroom was for. I don’t have many memories of either of my parents in the house on Burdeno Street, but as I told you before, I was just a baby. I’m not sure how long we lived in that house, but as a young child I do remember the next-door neighbors.…
When I was young, I lived in a house in the small town of Richland. My house was white, hence it was always called “The White House”. We always had numerous neighborhood kids running about, because our house was caught in the middle between two apartment buildings. The summers were always beautiful, with the colors so vibrant. Our house was surrounded by Northern Catalpa trees. They had leaves that could be larger than your face and I always remember stacking them up in towers or pretending they were lily pads when it rained. I lived with my parents and my older brother and sister. We always used to roam around on our bikes and explore the woods that surrounded everything like a barrier. There was a little forest den that must have been cleaned…
One day my best friend Jackie came down from Calvary Manor. My family lived in Southside, close to the Norfolk Naval Shipyard in Portsmouth called Newtown. In the 1970’s Southside had large Victorian Houses. We lived in a predominately mixed community. My house was near a corner grocery store called King’s market. One day, Jackie and I decided to venture over to the big open field. I ran through the tall weeds and Jackie followed and we just began to play and laugh. We came to a place and the open field that stood this huge mulberry tree that hung close to the ground. Jackie and I went inside to take a look as well as to get out of the sun. When we got inside it looked like someone had used it for a clubhouse. So I decided this would be my special place away from…
It was a green world where I was born. I was born and raised in a small town which could almost know as countryside. Now, the small town has already collapsed and turned into a developing-city. It is so sad that I can only recall my childhood days in my mind instead of visiting the small town.…
The house I will forever have embedded in my mind was located in the rural town of Bovina, Texas. This was the house my father and his twelve brothers and sisters grew up in. Every time we went there, I remember driving up and the first thing I saw was a medium sized dead tree with a rickety tire swing hanging from one of the larger tree limbs. The front yard had splotches of somewhat green grass here and there. The walkway to the front porch was kind of old and some of the cement bricks were broken. As you neared the house you got a better look at the house. The right side of the house, right under all the window sills, there were dying flowers. My grandma loved to tend to her garden but since she was getting up in the years, it became harder and harder for her to do so. The paint on the house was old and weathered and some of the bricks were broken and missing which brought out the real age of the house. There was a weird sound that you heard as you entered the doorway that sounded a little like a car that was about to stall out. I later learned that that was the old leaky swamp cooler on top of the house.…
During our childhood, there are many events that are memorable and influential; Memories are a part of life. We use our memory function to recall the memories we once had. Memory is a vital part of the learning process. Without it, learning would be impossible. If our brain recorded nothing from the past, we would be unable to learn anything new. All our experiences would be lost as soon as they ended, and each new situation would be totally unfamiliar. If memories hindered or helped people in their effort to learn from their past, it would really have to depend on the individual. Every person is different, so therefore, their memories are going to be different also. These memories are the ones that teach us in our adult life the most affable aspects about ourselves, and our reactions to others. As we look back into our childhood and see those times, we should not have regrets, but we should know that they taught us some positive lessons. Sometimes it is quite difficult to remember too far back into our childhood for a memorable event, but there are a series of events that I still remember to this day ,some of them are fun, some events are sad.…
It was a hot Labor Day weekend 1996. My husband, children and I lived in a Farm house built in 1864, one of the oldest houses in Lane County. The house had large plank floors, two front doors off the porch and large windows some with the original panes of glass. One door lead you into the Parlor and the other lead you into the Living room. A narrow hallway in the living room went to small winding steps that took you to a great room on the second floor of the house, this is where my kids had their bedrooms. The house was surrounded with the most amazing yard. The white picket fence enclosed a grape arbor, as old as the house, and underneath the grapes there were two small rope swings attached to the arbor for my kids. Outside the fence was a large orchard filled with apples, pears and plums: and a lovely garden that I planted each summer with corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, blueberries and raspberries.…
The house was old. My grandparents lived in this house most of her life. The house was a light brown color with an attached garage. Around the house was a porch I would lie in the huge white chair and wait for my grandpa to come home from golfing. Sometimes, I would fall asleep while listening to the birds chirping, squirrels/chipmunks squeaking and even to a woodpecker pecking on a tree next to me. No matter if it was winter; spring, summer, or fall, there was always something to do at my grandparents’ house or with my grandparents. I can recall in the winter taking long snowmobile rides with my grandpa. Through the woods we would go with my grandpa quizzing me as to where we were. We would build snowmen, and I would help shovel the driveway. My grandparents would take me to the local golf club they were active members at and I would climb this huge hill and would go sledding down it ten times. As my grandma and grandpa watched me and took pictures. I think out of all the seasons winter was the best by far, because I knew I got to ride with my grandpa on his sled.…
Ever since I was a little girl I dreamed of the day I would turn fifteen. So I could have my Quinceñera. Wearing a big elegant dress, dancing on a beautiful hard wood floor, in a building that looked like a castle. Dancing the last song with my father and having him take off my little ballet shoes and put my heels on representing I was no longer a child but a woman was all I could think about. Having him give me my last doll meant everything!…
I would define childhood as a never ending vacation, a rollercoaster ride that never stops exciting and entertaining, making life worth living. But childhood also has its memories that a person would remember when they grow up or probably when they are sharing with their kids about what they cherish the most or what made them realize how beautiful childhood actually was compared to being grown up.…
When I recall my childhood memories, there are many stories. Some of them make me happy, but others makes me grow up. The first memories made me growing us happened when I was eleven years old. I discovered that life can be choices by myself.…
I can fondly remember that special summer, at the age of ten, as one of my best childhood memories. When I think back to the anticipation and excitement of my first trip to Disney World, it feels as if it happened yesterday. My parents planned the trip for several months. As a child, it seemed as if the time would never come. When it was finally time to pack and leave, I felt excited. The night before our departure, I could not sleep at all. My most interesting childhood memory is of going to Walt Disney world with my family and having lots of fun. Vacations with the family were always joyous.…
Situated in front of a dirt road, across from and empty lot that had a river running by it, was my childhood home. I grew up in this home alongside my mother, four sisters, and two brothers. I can remember every corner of the house as if it was yesterday that I lived there.…
There was a yard lies outside of the door gate. Our family owns two pomegranate trees and a toona tree whose leaves are edible and delicious. Every autumn, my favorite activity is to climb the trees to pick those fresh, juicy pomegranates and the buds of toons. In addition to the trees, there is a beautiful park that is only a ten minute walk. Each summer, I went fishing in the river in the park with my neighbors and then cooked the fish and shrimp for dinner. While I ate, I came to understand that nature that provides essential foods to human life and I really appreciated that.…