When we are young, and our eyes see what we want to without the burden of other’s expectations of us, that’s when we live for us. No worries, nothing to stop us from dreaming what we want to. As a second grader, I used to imagine myself as a pilot or an astronaut, soaring toward the stars. I dreamed I would sit on the moon and eat cheese sandwiches, and I felt that happiness had no end. Even as a “little more grown up” tenth grader, I used to imagine myself as a journalist or a writer.
Today, when I see my neighbor’s one year old girl come to me so readily, calling my name with so much affection, and in her charming way ask for biscuits and even refer to her sibling who’s going to be coming soon, I feel memories creeping back into me, happy ones where I used to ask my mother if I would be getting a sister anytime. Time flows by so soon, doesn’t it?
nostalgic for times
when virtue stayed true in heart
painting dream colors
(March 10th, 2012)