Memoir
Memoirs are great because they capture significant times in our lives. People love talking about themselves, and what better way to preserve stories than through a memoir? These short journals don’t have to be anything drastic, like diving off a cliff. They can be extremely simple as long as they can evoke emotion and further thought. Do you think I was able to achieve that in the following memoir?
I have a lot of memories from the three years I spent going to school in Russia. However, some of the most exciting ones are of the times at after school daycare. In my circle of friends who would stay after classes as well, I was known as the “cat lover.” Another girl was labelled as the “horse lover,” another as the “dinosaur lover,” and there were also girls who obsessed over boys; mind you, all of us were under ten years old. All in all, it was a happy group.
The kids were allowed to play in the schoolyard during warm days, and those times were of utmost value. We conducted horse races by embodying horses and running with all our might. We played house on a nearby lawn, amongst a group of bushes that grew side-by-side. We even worked as archaeologists and dug the ground in search of treasures. This was no childish game based on imagination. With the aid of sticks and stones, the kids would dig up old USSR coins and examine them under a magnifying glass.
Perhaps my most memorable experience at after school daycare is of a clubhouse party the children organized. At the side of the school building was a staircase with an empty space underneath it; an ideal place for a fort. One of my friends had connections with the older kids. They agreed to help us build the house and brought materials from unidentified sources, while my friends and I did the set-up. After much effort, we completely transformed the space. It was now lined with cardboard walls, and the inside was a cozy room filled with boxes and car tires to sit on. A good party would not be complete without tasty refreshments. Every clubhouse member had brought a few Rubbles to contribute to the party food fund. All of us gathered under the stairs on the day of the celebration and feasted on a large array of sweets. My friends and I were having a great time until the daycare supervisor noticed our construction and ended the unauthorized assembly.
It’s amazing how eight years later these memories still give me pleasant warm feelings. During those innocent years, the world was so much more exciting, and yet so much simpler. I wish I could return to the joyful after school times in Russia and have more skipping rope contests, go sneaking around the school, feed the imaginary piranhas in the puddle. However, I know that these days have forever disappeared in the past. My school friends have all grown up and times have changed. This sort-of makes me sad because even though I still feel young, I won’t ever experience the childhood I remember. I guess all I can do is move forward along with the past’s memories.
