Essay About Childhood

Essay about Childhood
Childhood is present in every adult. The immaturity, the innocence, the naivety, the thirst for approval, is craved in everyone around you.
Memories of childhood can be represented in many ways: a blanket, stuffed animal, rattle, song, or maybe even a movie. We can cling to these
things for support in times of need, or just to recall fond memories of a simpler, and in most cases happier time. As our lives change around us, and
we change to adapt to our lives we recall these items. We return to them for comfort, or we pass them to others who need them. These images can help
us deal with something unbearable; they can be our "ship in the storm". They can help us remember loved ones, or they can remind us of the good in
someone who has...show more content...
My aunt Mickey is pretending to be the Wicked Witch, and my mom is pretending to be Glinda. My cousin Craig was the cowardly lion, and my Dad
was the wizard and the tin man. My Grandma was Toto, and my cousin Sharon was the munchkins. Dana, my cousin, was the scarecrow. I was
skipping around the house singing, and they were all playing their parts. I stood up to the wicked witch, rescued the scarecrow, comforted the
cowardly lion, and tapped my heels three times to go home. As the only young child in my family at the time I was babied, and the center of attention.
The reason this video is so important to me is because of what it represents; my family when it was whole. In the recent years my aunt Mickey has
been diagnosed with Alzheimers and she no longer remembers me. My cousin Sharon died from lymphoma, and my Grandmother passed away. My
cousin Dana was diagnosed with cancer and lost a large part of her arm, but due to a family argument I haven't talked to Craig or Dana in almost two
years. There are new children, and new marriages that I don't hear about until months after. I no longer know these people, I only know my memories
of them.
My family is no longer together, and is no longer happy. As the most vital parts of our family passed away, the rest of us grew apart. Disagreements
and selfishness affected the relationships in ways none of us could have
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My Childhood Essay
In addition, I have never forgotten my singular neighborhood which saw me when I was born, my first steps, my first words and so on. Hence, I
had been living there for almost twenty years. There, I grew up with my family and unique neighbors who sharing unforgettable memories. My
neighborhood was placed next to the principal port of my country, so everybody could get the most fresh fish and seafood at markets. Close to my
house living people who had jobs in the port such as fish man, merchant marine, and captains. I remember that the community formed groups in order
to gather money for any purpose. For example, the soccer field of my neighbor was old and careless. We made many activities as bingo, garage sale,
and food sale. After long...show more content...
February is the hottest month of the year in my country, so since children to adults play this kind of comic game outside homes watching who is "dry"
and get "wet.
Finally, my first school during the elementary was one of the most important in my life. There, I met many friends whom I still keep their friendship. I
was six years old when I went at this female school, so all of my friends were woman. Every class, I used to go late because my parents would work the
entire day every day; therefore, my grandmother after cook, she got to take me to at school. One day when I was going to my school on bus, I saw in the
same bus a black long hair girl also with her grandmother and I remembered have seen her in my classroom. That day, after finishing the class, I
started to talk with that girl called "Vanessa". Coincidently, after a long talking, we realized living close to each other. Therefore, I used to go her
home to do homework or play chequers. Sometimes, I came home from school with Vanessa and her grandmother when my grandmother could not.
Vanessa and I sang popular songs or telling jokes on the back way home. As I met Vanessa, I talked with Sara, Giuliana and Emily also. We are five–
girls, so we sat together everyday that my parents talked with their parents, and if some of us were absent in the school, one of the parents called to
tell them the homework of the day. They were my first

Descriptive Essay About My Childhood
My childhood was stuffed with the juicy taste of fresh blueberries growing from the shrubby overgrown park fence. To the chirping robins early in
the bright dawning sun as the big yellow monster interrupted their song. And the best, the fragranced breeze of sweet, lavender, trumpet shaped
flowers blossoming from the Jacaranda tree. The tree where I met Kaylee, my quirky full of life neighbor and best friend since I could remember.
That was until the summer of 2010. I remember the day I played the best hide and seek game with kaylee and the obnoxious twin boys next door. I
remember it so well because that was also the last game of hide and seek I'd ever play with them. My mom had told me to be home by 5 and I
wondered why so early but still I came home. "Hey, mom so kaylee is going with her parents to the beach and they invited me to go, and oh! Also
mom guess what today i..." "Candy , I'm sorry but you cant tomorrow" "Mom pleaseee.... I promise ill wash the dishes when I get home and hey I
will even mop and take the trash out pleaseee.." "Caramelo..I'm sorry but tomorrow you're going to be busy packing" "For what?", I said as my heart
raced for the answer I knew would come up. "We are moving!!!!! Didn't mom tell you already?"–My little sister said jumping of excitement. " No she
didn't.....", I said looking down. "Hey prieta, hey codorito", my dad said as he sat down all tired from work. "Hey dad", I said in a quiet sad voice. " Im
sorry but hey after you do finish packing

My Personal Experience : My Childhood Experience
I have had numerous childhood encounters that have helped shape me into the individual that I am today. I have additionally had a ton of learning
encounters over the span of my school year, a lot of them, I would state was more all through my high school years. A lot of my learning
experiences were when I first came to America. Coming to a new country and trying to adapt to its ways can be very difficult. It is hard to just talk
about one event because there is a lot, but I'll just tell a few stories. My second story might not be from my childhood, but it was still something that
helped me grow and helped me become the person I am today. The time when I was bullied atschool by my peers and teachers especially in high school.
It is hard...show more content...
So of course, when I went to my teacher and I asked her to use the restroom, I said, "can I go to the WC." After she had said that I was humiliated to
even go back to my seat and sit down. I remember going home to my mom and when she opened the door and started conversing with me in Arabic, I
got so irritated and told her the same thing that my teacher told me, "we are in America, stop talking in this stupid language." I recall not wanting to
talk to my parents unless they talk to me in English.
I wanted to forget about the language and the country. I wanted to forget about who I was and where I came from and begin another life and erase
everything from before. To the point, I was in the third grade when my teacher wanted to do a mini international day and she advised every one of
us to come and wear our traditional cloth and bring food. I was so confused on why everyone was so eager to show off their culture. So, I went
home, made my mom make food for me and I dressed up in anything that I could find, I couldn't care less to make my poster board about Egypt look
nice and neat As I was standing in my corner waiting for the teacher and some students to come to my stand, I was thinking to myself when will this
day be over, but when they showed up and they started asking a lot of questions about the pyramids and the food, they all appeared to

Essay about My Childhood Home
The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child's mind, most notably when the cool crisp
winds of fall signal the summer's end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine
soaked waters of my family's bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed
in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother's stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the
closing hours of my eight' summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No
longer would we be returning...show more content...
I had violent, grass–stained war games with my neighborhood friends, while my mother worked in her small vegetable garden among the honeybees,
and watched things grow. An ever–present warming smell of knishes and hot dogs permeated around every inch of my block as the nearby
concession pumped a constant flow of fresh food to hungry little leaguers and their families. Looking up, the summer sky looked like an Easter egg
God had dipped in blue dye.
Those warm summer nights after long days of camp were greatly anticipated events back then. My cousin and I itched with repressed energy
throughout the long bus ride from various tri–state area attractions. We couldn't wait to get home and see what types of shenanigans we could get into.
We couldn't wait to slide down the steep, blue–carpeted staircase on our bottoms, and then on our stomachs. Most of all, we couldn't wait to go down
to the basement. The basement was better than a toy store. Yes, the old–fashioned milk chute in the kitchen wall was enchanting, and the laundry chute
was fun because it was big enough to throw down my sisters stuffed companions, so my cousin could catch them below in the laundry room, as our
voices echoed up and down the chute. But the basement was better than all of these, better even than sliding down those stairs on rug–burned bottoms.
It was always deliciously cool down

What do you think of when you think of home? Is it a place to sleep, a place to cry,or is it your hiding place. When most people think of home they
think of it as just some place that they live at with their family, and or guardians.But when I think of home I think of it as my solid fortress,the only
place where I am free to be 100% me.
My house, still very distinctive in my mind, so beautiful with vivid memories I can never forget,the place where all my family loved coming,and
leaving with a light of hope, is the home of my childhood. It's almost mandatory to mention my childhood home, it is the place where I was at my
happiest in my life. Talking about my childhood memories brings me such joy, every time I think of my childhood home,because it is such a vibrant
place that made me so excited to grow up, while I had such a carefree life. Needless to say, my childhood home is a one story red and brown
middle–class brick home, with a wooden fence surrounding its circumference,located in Carencro,Louisiana. My house, is the center of attention,
because no matter which way you would turn within the subdivision you were bound to see the home that captured my childhood. Being that we had
wood flooring, always confused me, because as you walked it would shift on some parts of the flooring, like leaves were crunching, so it kind of
brought you on a journey as you were walking. At night I would creep in the dark on the pieces that would shift, and I would imagine myself outside

Essay About My Childhood
Title The first thing I remember about my childhood, is the sound of my grandmother playing the piano in her house. I would wake up from taking a
nap in her couch and she'll greet me with a smile, and then we would eat together with the quite large family that I had. The food that we usually ate
together would vary from panamanian food to chinese food, as we had chinese heritage. Even though my family was pretty big, she was always
capable of uniting the family together and we always had a good time, me and my siblings together with my mom, we would go to her house every
friday, and that was the day everyone reunited to eat and to talk about our week and just spend time with everyone.
My grandmother was always very religious, her house was filled with paintings of Jesus and Mary, also with religious statues and images. She
really liked Jesus, she would always say that he was her best friend, and I thought it was funny, but I liked that. She was very into religion, she would
always donate to charity and help the others, if more people had noticed her, I would've said she could've been a Saint. She played the piano in the
church and she...show more content...
She gradually got worse and she couldn't do the activities like she used to do, and we all noticed. It was cГЎncer. Everyone in the family was worried.
The economic problems in my family had ended, and we thought that my grandmother still sending us food everyday with her health was probably a
nuisance, and even though we asked her if it was, she said that it was no problem for her, and she still did. My grandmother refused treatment, some
family members said that she got tired of living, and others said that it was God's will. As the months unfolded, my grandmother got weaker, her body
was gradually getting thinner and her stomach looked inflated because of the cancer, everyone in the family was pained by this sight, but we couldn't
go against her

My Journey Essay : My Childhood Journey
My Childhood Journey I can start anywhere but let's take it back to January 12th 1999, the day I was born. My mom told me the day she went in
labor with me it was her and my step dad January 11th she started having contractions at around 12:45. She said she took it like a Queen because
she was having a beautiful princess. At around eight o'clock the next morning January 12th she took a ride to St. Vincent. They admitted her put
her in a room stripped her and prepped her to deliver me. I was delivered at 12:45 January 12, 1999. She knew right then & there she had the most
beautiful little girl in the world. She then kissed me and held me for a long. Then came my real dad around 4:30 that after noon. She said it was
one of the best moments of her life. Six Months had went by so fast that one night my mom had rushed me to the hospital, the doctors was just
suppose to give me fluids because I was dehydrated but instead of them putting the needle in my vain the fluids were just pumping through my leg
and infiltrated my leg so my leg was swollen for almost a week and two days but everything got back to normal and I was A okay. Three Months
later it was time for my 1st Birthday party. It was humongous all of my grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins were there. Back then it was called
Show Biz and the character was Billy bob. Now everybody knows it as Chuck E Cheese. But since it was my birthday my mom went all out for me
and brought me my favorite characters, Mickey Mouse &

My Memories Of My Early Childhood Essay
My earliest memory I remember as a child is around the age of two years old. My Mother would put me in the playpen but I refused to stay. I was
able to climb out of it. I remembered my Mother's face expression that let me know that I better not climb out of the playpen again. This was one of
my earliest memories of her setting her boundaries. When I got older, my Mother told me about the situation. She needed to clean and/or cook so she
had to put me in the playpen. At the age of two years old, I just wanted to explore and didn't want to stay in the playpen. This set the tone between us
moving forward.
During my early childhood, I had both of my parents and grew up with three other siblings from a different Father. Both of my parents were born in
Belize in Central America. I was born in New York. They instilled many thoughts, ideas and traditions of the Belizean culture. My mother had an
authoritarian style of parenting meanwhile my Father had an authoritative style of parenting. Looking back at it, it made sense because I was closer
to my Father than my Mother. My Mother was the one to always saying "No" to everything and my Father was stern but we had a great relationship.
My Father and I used to have our Father–Daughter days that we would go out. We would talk about a variety of topics that I wanted to talk about. I
was able to be open with my Father. He challenged me to think with our deep conversations about life and his expectations he had for me. I loved the
time

Childhood Memories of my Grandparents' Home Essay
When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in
life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take
me back to that state of mind, my grandparent's house and the land I love so much.
Their house was old. My grandparents lived in it most of their adult lives. It was white with black trimming, but most of the paint was chipped away.
On the back porch was firewood all year long. No matter if it was winter; spring, summer, or fall the wood was always there. Red, yellow, purple
flowers grew alongside the house all spring and summer....show more content...
My grandparents owned 80 acres, and I would roam each and every inch. Running through the soaring weeds, and jumping over any log that would get
in my path just to end up falling to the ground out of complete exhaustion.
There is something to be said about lying on one's back in an open field hour upon hour staring up at a huge blue sky. With no one around and not
another house for miles, it is a great place to be alone, to listen. In that field, I could pick up all the wonderful sounds of nature commonly
misplaced by all the buzz of the city. The wind spoke as it blew across the land, whistling through the tall weeds and the colossal of trees. Crickets
rub their wings composing a song for everyone to hear. I soaked in all the beauty of the surrounding landscape. There was towering groves of trees,
creek beds lined with wildflowers producing delightful fragrances, and sunsets that would take your breath away. Still I walked cautiously, for all
of lands beauty; trouble could still take form, whether it was running into a slithering snake or stumbling across a prickly thistle. The pond was one
of my favorite places, for it was where I learned how to fish and skip rocks across the water. I would sit alongside the banks and listed to the familiar
sound of the bullfrogs bellowing their presents. I think if the pond could tell a story it would be of the one that

My Story Of My Childhood Essay
When you think of someone who is a product of their environment, you may think of someone who steals because they may have grown up in
poverty, or someone who abuses women because that 's what they grew up watching happen in their own home, or maybe even someone who was
raised in a very strict home may have grown up to be a very straight laced individual. My story is a little different. My story goes deeper than how I
act on the outside, my story is about the inner workings of my mind and how growing up the way I did has directly affected me as an adult person
today. My childhood wasn 't the perfect childhood that everyone dreams of having. My childhood was a broken family, neglect, abuse, and
disappointments. My parents divorced when I was two years old, but I really don 't remember anything until I was four years old. My mother had
full custody of me, my father would come get me every other weekend so I didn 't get to see him much. The relationship between my mother and I
at that time was not what a normal mother and daughter relationship was. I can remember most nights after supper, she would start getting ready to
go out, already a little tipsy from the few beers she 's had throughout the day. I would cry and beg her not to leave me, I would plead for her to stay
home with me because I didn 't want to go to sleep on the babysitters couch. No matter how much a begged and cried, I still went to the babysitter and
I wouldn 't see my mother again until she picked me up in

My childhood was never something that seemed to be a typical boy's childhood. I never watched sports as kid since the T.V. channel was dictated
by my parents so all we watched were shows like Law & Order, CSI, and Fear Factor. I never learned about cars whatsoever and talking about girls
always perplexed me. I never understood how someone could base their feelings about someone based off physical appearances, but that could just
be because I was very pessimistic and was always very distant of people in general. Video games are something that I loved to play and was
something I thought would be a normal guy thing. While I had played video games, they mainly consisted of Nintendo games which are generally
much more docile than games than...show more content...
They all tried to their best to include me in the conversation by asking my opinion on their discussion. While the discussion was trained on football
one of the upperclassman asked, "So Nick, who's your favorite team?" When I replied that I had no clue they tried a different question. "Oh, well,
which Halo games have you played? Have you played Halo 3?" This question really threw me because it ran on the assumption that I had played
games from the Halo franchise. I told them that I had never heard of Halo and the amount of shock that could be seen in their face was astounding. It
felt like I was an anomaly in society, that I was raised incorrectly.
Despite me being a guy I had no knowledge on any of the "guy stuff" that they were talking about. I had never realized that they gender stereotypes in
something as basic as conversational topics and things that they should be well versed in. It's something that seems absurd to think that society thinks
that people are born with some kind of innate knowledge about the frivolous things of our society based off their gender.
This type of expectation is often seen throughout society. Gender roles are normally seen as physical traits, per se. Most stereotypes are thought to
pertain to what a person is expected to do or look like, such as a woman being a housewife or a man looking like a brawny lumberjack. While these are
things that can easily be

Autobiography Of My Childhood
In second grade, I finally figured out that something was wrong with me. There always had been, and it was only getting worse. For as long as I
had been alive, I was never like other kids. As a baby, I never crawled more than a few inches. But one day, just for fun, my dad stood me up across the
room from my mom. "Walk to Mama," he told me. Despite all expectations, I did. I got up and walked to Mama. I didn 't even stumble. It wasn 't
that I couldn 't walk, I just hadn 't needed to. My mom carried me everywhere. It was a sign, albeit missed, of what was to come. I had also never
spoken, not even baby babble. Many of my parents ' friends took this as proof that I was autistic. My parents, however, refused to believe them. I...show
more content...
The school tried to discourage my parents from thinking I was gifted, saying things like 'A lot of people think that about their kids,' and 'She's fine
where she is.' Fortunately, my parents knew something was up. At Ms. Kafka's urging, my parents got me tested. The results came back positive.
I was gifted. Very. The school resumed its rhetoric with even more force. They didn 't want me to leave. I was dragging up their test scores. My
parents, however, did want me to leave, as did I. We started looking at schools. Two favorites emerged: Nova Classical Academy and Minnetonka
Public Schools's Navigator program. Nova was a public charter school in Saint Paul, much closer to my house in Minneapolis, and was
recommended by my IQ test proctor. The Navigator program was, unsurprisingly, in Minnetonka, and my parents had found it on their own. Due to
my father's anxieties about me going to a charter, they decided to look more closely at Minnetonka. A little while later, I was pulled from my school
to go to a Navigator orientation. As soon as I walked in to the classroom, I felt every pair of eyes on me. I was in the worst situation imaginable–I was
the newcomer. I didn 't know anything about this strange new place, half an hour away from my school, my house, and anything and anyone I knew.
Worse, in less than a year, these kids could be my classmates. I took a spot at the very back table. There was only one other student there–a blonde girl
who quickly introduced herself

An Essay About My Childhood
My childhood wasn't always perfect. When I was younger I lived up north with my biological father, mother, and siblings. We looked like a perfect
american family. Seemed nice and perfect out in public. But no one really knew how my father was. Let's just say I didn't have the perfect father. All
people saw was the good part of him. The part my mom fell in love with. My mother is a kind lady. Caring and always taking care of others. I would say
maybe she was sometimes a little too nice when she was younger always forgiving people. She would wake up every morning make breakfast and even
lay my father's clothes out for him before work. So all he would have to do is wake up and go on about his life. I guess my dad took advantage of that.
He did not respect my mom or even his own kids whatsoever. All he...show more content...
All I wanted was a new life for my mom and siblings. My mom would honestly have new appearing bruises on her everyday. But it seemed like no
one really paid no mind to it. She would try telling someone about it. But no one really listened. Not even her own sister would.People would just
say she puts the bruises there herself just to get attention. When all she wanted was help. My mom would called the cops. But every time she did
she knew it would just get worse. I never knew why she wouldn't leave. But not until my father came home so mad to where he pushed my mom
down the stairs. Which lead her to go to the hospital. She was pregnant with my little brother at the time. Which caused her to bleed and be in a lot
of pain. But thankfully nothing happened to him or her. When she was rushed to the ER. My aunt came over to watch us. She asked us serverel
question on how it happened. But my dad told her she tripped. But my aunt knew better. She saw the look in our eyes. I knew she was concerned but I
also feel like she felt guilty for not listening before. Well that's what I like to think. But she still didn't do anything about

My Childhood Memory
When I think of the most important memory that I have from my childhood, my mind goes directly to my childhood house to one specific day, the
day I got my puppy! I was in my kitchen on a calm day. My sister pulled up into the very cracked black top that was in our driveway. I heard the car
door slam close, then the sound of the squeaky kitchen door being opened. Eventually, I heard my name being yelled out by not only one person, but
also my niece and nephew. As I ran down the creaky and very loud stairs I could feel that something special was going to happen. As I turned the
corner my eyes went directly to one small fluff that was on the table. My sister had previously mentioned that she wanted a puppy and I even went to a
run–down pet shop in a very sketchy town with her. But the dog that we were on a hunt for was not at all like the one that was on my kitchen table at
that moment. I began approaching the counter, but trying to calm myself down. Previously I had owned a giant spotted pitbull named Yeyo and so I
wasn't that familiar with tiny dogs. I was beginning to picture the amazing days I could have with this dog before even laying a finger on her soft
fluffy hair. My sister must've surely seen the amazement in my eyes because before even saying anything to her, she began talking. Her words were a
blur to me because I was so focused on the huge deep brown eyes that were sitting on the slippery white worn down counter in front of me. The dog
was not meant to be mine

Essay about My Child
My Child
Wednesday, July 19th, I had a chance to observe carefully an infant for about half an hour in my psychology class at Santa Monica College. The
infant, Ali Osman, a healthy, playful boy appears to be of Middle Eastern origin. He is 15.5 months old, 32" tall and weighs about 24 lbs with brown
curly hair, dark brown eyes and fairly tanned skin.
There were several kinds of toys like blocks, dolls, and automobiles in the room. However, when he just came in, he was immediately drawn to the
dolls with intense interest and focus. Even though there wasn't any way to measure his heart rate or brain wave, I could easily tell how interested he was
by the way he gazed, touched and played with the dolls. This could be explained by the...show more content...
Ali is quite a friendly kid, he is not afraid to be with strangers proven by the fact that he could interact very comfortably with me, my classmates, and
other babies. However, when there were some unfamiliar things happening (like when the new baby twins came in or when someone made a scary
face to him), he always looked for his mother and ran toward her as described in proximity–seeking behaviors (Berger 226). He is a representative of
secure attachment by showing that he had no problem with being away from his mother and exploring on his own (Berger 228). Besides, he also
reacted to the Strange Situation the way we expected from a secured child as stated in Berger on page 228 and on table 7.1, page 230.
After play for a while, he came up to me with a book and showed me the content, then he gurgled something, clearly wanting me to read it to him. His
intention was well understood. Without sufficient vocabulary, using only hollow phrases, he still has no communication problem. After all,
communication is about understanding not vocabulary anyway (Berger 198). He showed clear signs of understanding his mother's commands such as
"up, down, kiss, bye, etc." by following them. His spoken language has been developed normally according to table 6.2 in Berger, on page 194. One
interesting thing was that when he was sitting in the chair and reading the book, he did not make any recognizable word sounds but

Describing My Childhood Home
Quincy, Mass is where my childhood home stands
Homes are places that people can go to for warmth, memories and comfort. My childhood home resides or stands in Quincy, MA. The home is full
of comfort for me and my family. My home is your typical Cape Code style. It's gray in color with Maroon shutters. There is a 2 car attached
garage. Flowers, bushes and other landscape surround the house. The front living room window is a large bay window that allows a lot of sunlight
into the home when the curtains are open. The large bay window allows you to see a lot of our neighborhood and people passing by as they are out
for their daily stroll.
Like all homes, my home contains a kitchen. The kitchen represents fond memories of my mom...show more content...
Many times I would lie on my bed and listen to the rain hitting the roof outside my window and I could smell that rain, that's a great smell. Other
nights I would fall asleep in my bed as a cool breeze flowed through my bedroom leaving the air a little crisp, but oh so comfortable. On winter days,
I usually had the window closed, obvious reasons. I would lie on my bed drawing cartoon characters, listening to

Childhood Memories Essay
When I was a young child I would love to hear my parents tell me that we were going on a trip. I would be full of excitement, because I knew that
we would be going to a place that I had never seen before. My parents, my brother, and I would pack our luggage and venture out in our small gray
minivan. Three of my most cherished memories in our minivan are when we went to Disney World, the beach, and the mountains.
When I heard my parents talking about going to Disney World I was so excited. It was a long trip down to Florida and I could not sit still, because I
was so excited. We finally arrived that evening and decided to stay in a hotel near thetheme park. When it was time for bed I could not go to sleep for a
long time, because I...show more content...
Going to the beach was nothing like going to the lake or swimming pool. The ocean had large waves that would come crashing into the beach. I
was so small that the waves would just throw me around. I also got to walk down the beach and find different objects that the waves had washed
up on shore. I found seashells that had brilliant colors like the rainbow. I even found a creature that looked like pink jelly. I picked the creature up
with a stick and took it to show my dad. My dad told me that it was a jellyfish that could sting me, so he made me bury it in the sand. I saw another
creature that was gliding in shallow water. It was dark brown with a long tail and looked like it had wings. It was a horrible looking creature that I
had never seen before. My dad came down to the water to see what I was looking at. He told me that they were called skates, and they would not
hurt me. That was the first time I saw something living in the ocean besides a fish. My dad then showed me that there were little creatures called,
sand fiddlers, which would wash up when the waves crashed into the shore. We sat down on the sand so he could show me how to catch them. The
sand fiddlers would dig down in the sand fast as lightning, so we had to dig for them fast as we could. When I caught one it felt like it was trying to
dig into your hand with what seemed like a million legs. After about four hours I was exhausted and starving. I

Narrative Essay On A Day At Home
It was a normal Friday spent at home. Not many of my childhood experiences can I recall a clear enough picture of every detail like I can with this
one. The start of the day was like any other. It was a nice, sunny, and calm morning. I slept in, ate a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast, and got changed
into my favorite pair of shorts with a tank top. My parents were not home because they were on vacation in Florida. My sister was in her room, so I
decided to invite my friend Brooke over to spend the night. It was around noon when she was dropped off. We spent the whole afternoon hanging out
and doing typical twelve–year old girl stuff. I remember giving each other makeovers, riding the four–wheeler around the yard, jumping on the
trampoline,...show more content...
Thankfully, my mom answered on the first ring. "Hey sweetie how is everything going?" my mom asked. Cutting her off quickly I replied, "Mom,
something is wrong. I think someone is breaking in. The alarm is going off and Brooke and I are in the basement. We don't know what to do." My
mom began asking me questions, wondering where my sister was or what time the alarm went off. She talked to my dad and he was going to have
my uncle come check on us. Repeatedly my mom said, "Do not hang up the phone and keep talking to me." Brooke and I moved to a more hidden
area in the storage room so that we were less seen. We were crying continuously. The alarm had stopped after several minutes but that did not stop
us from thinking the harm was gone. I was still on the phone with my mom and she told me that my uncle was on his way. While patiently waiting,
we heard sounds coming from upstairs. Both of us were uncertain which sounds were actually real or in our imagination. I heard what seemed to be
footsteps across the kitchen floor. Still not knowing what or who it was, we did not move a muscle. Our bodies were sitting in silence; but our hearts
were beating faster than ever. All of the sudden I heard someone yell, "Hey Janelle and Brooke, you can come out now!" At that moment I had a sense
of relief go through my body as I recognized the familiar

Essay About Childhood

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Essay About Childhood