The last few days, I've been going through some old boxes of mine. It's kind of exciting--like opening a pack of trading cards when you're little. You kind of know what to expect, but not completely--will you get that special foil card? That really rare card? Or will you finish off a collection?
I found a treasure!
I think I should start out by admitting that I'm a pack-rat. It's a tendency I'm trying to overcome. But I'm so glad that I found these--old school papers from elementary school. The big, bulky, construction paper-enriched crafts. Math tests, math papers, social studies papers...and writing!
Oh, my gosh. What did you write like, when you were little? Or what did you write about?
I'm pretty sure we were given pictures and were told to write stories about them. I was hoping mine would be fantastic and show how I was a writer at a young age, but alas, they weren't. There were some misspellings--I was just freshly seven, having had my birthday right before school began. But they were such treasures. Interesting views into my mind, in fact. I wrote a lot about kittens and blond girls named Lisa (I wanted to be blond, though I'm definitely not, and I wanted my name to be Lisa, though I love it as is). I laughed, and laughed, and I'm so glad I found them, and I'm so proud of them, whether or not they are well-written. I packed them away, but drawing on my memory:
If I found a dinosaur outside of my house, I would: ask my Mom if I can keep him and then I would keep him and I would call him farad. (I think that was supposed to be Fred. It wasn't capitalized in my "story," either.)
In the summertime: We wear three types of clothes; skirts, shorts and swimsuits. If you are a boy, you can only wear two. If you are a girl, you can wear all three. And you can play with the garden hose.
One Christmas: Everyone forgot, except for a little girl named Lisa. But she didn't know anyone forgot, so she didn't tell anyone. She left him (Santa?) a gift on Christmas Eve. (I assume that's the only gift given, and if you really want to think into it, Santa forgot, too, so he didn't even get his present...but oh, well.)
Oh, sometimes it's annoying to get prompts, but sometimes it's a lot of fun. So, I challenge you to tell me your own stories--what happened in the summer? What happened one Christmas? And what would you do if you found a dinosaur outside your house?
Or, you know, just enjoy my sad "stories." I did. :)