I've been moving through a workbook--"The Creative Call" by Janice Elshiemer. The author encourages you to get up early & write in a creative journal she calls a daybook. This week one of the daybook exercises was to jot down some favorite memories from childhood. I deeply enjoyed thinking through this and thought some of you might enjoy reading it.
On Sunday nights after church my parents often went out with friends to Shoney's. I remember sitting beside them in the cushy booth, listening to my Dad and our pastor talk about the mysteries of scripture. Even as a little kid I felt pride in my Dad's desire to know God and understand the Word. He would get so excited that he would proclaim in a loud belly laugh the greatness of his God. I remember wanting to know every detail about the topic they were discussing that week. Their talks made me want to discover the nuggets of truth they possessed and be included in the conversation. I think this is where my curiosity for scripture was born.
Some nights, when I was not engaged in listening, I was busy making the ever popular "mystery" drink with the kids who had come. A staple of our late nights out was dumping everything from our plates and the table into our water glasses and daring each other to drink it. It was inevitable though, no mater how careful and quiet we were, the cup would always end up knocked over. The contents spilling over us, our table, our shoes and the floor. Our parents would consequently swoop down on our table and usher us out to the car and home to bed.
I loved climbing trees and playing in creeks. I remember the joy I felt when I was up among the branches. I was strong and indestructible! Grace and skill seemed like second nature which was the opposite of how I felt when I was on the ground. I loved the solitude as well. When I was up as high as I could go, and had found the perfect notch to lean or sit on, I remember closing my eyes and enjoying the wind rocking the branches and tickling my face with my hair.
There was a creek behind our church that I was always trying to get into! My mom remained frustrated in the summer because I constantly muddied my nice shoes and dirtied my Sunday dresses. I remember the satisfaction I felt when I would jump from rock to rock to rock all up and down the course of the creek. It was the first place I felt independent from my parents. Making my own choices and suffering the consequence of a wet shoe if I made a poor one. Even better was when I would take off my shoes and wade into the water. I loved squishing my toes in the mud and was terrified that I would get pinched by crawfish.
One of my favorite places to spend time with I was young was my friend Holly's house. Holly was a great friend to have. She was kind and energetic, and she loved to pretend as much as I did. I always felt safe around her. I felt like I could be completely myself and she valued the person I let her see.
She lived in, at least I remember it being an old farmhouse. There was a barn with animals (she raised a cow for 4H at one point), a big interesting back yard, her mysterious artistic older brother (smile), and her mother, Paula, who was as kind as Holly. Her house was like a fantasy land for me. There was a wood-burning kitchen stove and a big fireplace. It was away from the main road so we could roam around on our own, letting our imaginations run wild.
I think Holly is the reason I love to read today. She had so many books at her house and I remember one of our favorite past times was reading to each other and telling each other stories. Holly's mom loved telling stories too and knew many folk tales that she would tell us over and over. I vividly remember her telling me about the first woman who was executed in NC. Holly introduced me to my favorite book, "The Westing Game" one night when I was spending time with her and her family as they worked to put up some harvested something. We took turns reading it to each other late into the night, sitting by the campfire, with the aid of a flashlight. It was so spooky I wanted to stop reading but so interesting I couldn't.
Those weren't all the things I loved from when I was a kid, but it is all I'll blog about for now. I would love to hear some of your favorite things from childhood and would encourage you to take some time this week to write about your own memories. It was really satisfying!
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