Just Some Childhood Memories! Wouldn't Call Them Unthinkable Though.

I had read frito414's story on growing rich in the small things when I realized that she was right. Many things in my past are actually beautiful when reflected on; even if they seemed traumatic at the time. I'm really not much of a writer but I will try and make this as pleasant as possible. I really feel no shame over my childhood memories and I am sincerely grateful for the lessons learned. It was an absolute adventure! Won't be sharing everything though! Here goes. 


My parents moved to Italy when i was roughly 2 or 3. They couldn't afford to take care of and me and work at the same time so they sent me to a boarding school. I'm not aware that it was so much a boarding school but there were amazing nuns and i lived there. There were other children whom I have fond memories of. I had a friend in the nuns, i had a friend in the cooks and i had a friend in the older kids (2 girls in particular were always there for me) , i had a friend in all the other kids and i had a friend in all the trees that surrounded the place and all the lizards that I spoke to every now and then.  My parents would visit me on weekends and occasionally take me home. I remember Having woken up from a nightmare once, i woke up screaming and to a beautiful sight. Two young ladies at the foot of my bed, waiting in silence in case I needed them. They comforted me, and they made me smile. I slept very peacefully that night. 

I remember my first french kiss, i was 3. =) I had such a passion for this boy, this boy with lovely cheeks and such a lovely heart. We watched robin hood and hid in his parent's bed. We kissed under the sheets and then smiled and then ran to tell his mother. I remember he dressed up as batman, my favourite hero at the time.I remember how beautiful he looked; he was my hero. We declared our love to each other on the school's stage where i had performed dozens of times. There was a huge banner hanging across the stage, our names and a heart were beautifully written on it. We held hands, and told the whole school how we felt about each other. We read something beautiful to each other, and we smiled. There is video of this day.

From then on, i had moved time and time again. Different places and different people. Different stories to tell. 

I've been in the backseat of a car, hiding under a blanket so the border patrol wouldn't see me.

I've been in a room in france, with no outside contact. I had stayed in that room all by myself and whenever my father would come he would lift me up to the sink so I could pee; there was no bathroom. I have memories of climbing up to the window and looking out. One night there were dozens of people yelling and running and throwing things around; there was a riot. And i was happy. 

I've lived in a refugee camp in holland for a total of 7 or 8 years, roughly. There I have stood in line for food and learned the capoeira from complete strangers. I played with people from all over the world and experienced dozens of cultures.

I once stood across from roughly 25 to 30 kids, all standing behind a girl that had it out for me. I stood alone, yet felt no fear. A group of 5 boys, slightly older than i, came and stood behind. They were my angels in that moment, and we became best friends. I've spent dozens of nights alone in a room, some nights i would walk out of the room into the hallway and look out the window. Maybe my father would be walking in through the camp's gate, I thought, but i would see him in the morning. 

I once saw two girls having what I now know to be defined as sex at the age of 7 or 8. Or maybe even earlier. I was shocked and confused and ran out of the room.

I ate at a friends house frequently, it was an african family, one who's mother would always let myself and other kids join their family. I used to wrestle with my friends, i used to play hide and seek with all the kids in the refugee camp. We were all one big family.

I remember I once fell unconscious and saw a flash of bright lights; It was extraordinary. I had been playing soccer and the ball had hit my young and tiny head; the ball was kicked by a teen boy. They let me play with them! 

I've sung in busses to all of my friends, i've sung and told tales to a few in rooms we were not allowed to enter.

I've held my best friend in my arms when i was 10, i had just been molested by a friend of her family's and it appeared she had been also. I didn't tell her, but i comforted her for her pains. She asked me to hold her like a loving man would, i understood why, and i did.

We were very good friends, we once befriended a lonely lady. We were always advised not to wander too far off the camp, but we didn't care. She welcomed us into her home and introduced us to many lovely things. We visited her more than once. This friend also came to my defense when I had started school in that town. I was a christian girl and some kids didn't like that. Someone went as far as cutting my hair because of it, and i was a very kind girl, i didn't want to hurt in return; i let it happen. She came to the school, despite her muslim faith, and she gave it her all.

I found great happiness in all these experiences, i felt a silent peace.

I remember once walking and wandering off by myself, i found a 5iver on the ground. I was so delighted, i went and bought icecream.

I also bought icecream with the $1 my molester would give me after molesting me, every time. But i always thought he was lonely, i saw his loneliness and i didn't want to hurt him any more than the pain i could see in his eyes. Turns out he'd been hurting me. 

I remember riding my bike to school everyday, down the hill and up again. I remember riding so fast I stopped abruptly right before a car that had sped down the street. The old lady behind the wheel had stopped abruptly and stared at me for the what i thought to be the longest time. Neither of us were hurt.

I remember playing in the corn fields.

I remember singing to myself when no one was around, recording it and then playing it back. I remember having a sleep over with my best friend when neither my parents were there. I remember her cleaning the place up with me and watching television late at night. I remember the window faced the staircase on the side of the building and anyone could see into the one room i lived in. 

I remember watching titanic for the first time.

I remember singing "man, i feel like a woman" by shania twain with a broom stick; just to get my friend's attention.

I remember being fearless, i would sing and dance and scream my lungs out, i saw no shame in it. 

I remember all the friends at school at lunchtime following me around. I remember carrying them into my imaginary world. I remember being the only black girl (although my complexion is pretty light at that) at school. I remember everyone else in the refugee camp went to other schools and i was the only one at this all white- reformed school.  I remember the first time I went to someones house to play. It was on the other side of town, there were houses everywhere. I'd never been in a house. We made a snowman and landed in the newspaper. One of them even visited me in the camp. I felt loved and accepted, I never felt any shame or separation. I thought everyone just happened to have a different place to live.

I remember almost molesting a little boy in a another room we were not allowed to enter. I was 10, i'd been molested, i didn't tell anyone and i just didn't understand why. I almost thought it was right it happened, i thought i had to continue. I led this little boy into the room, his eyes were very bright and his smile reflected so much excitement. I didn't know what i was doing, but i thought i had to. I led him to the wall, his back was against the wall. I think his whole body fit right in between my legs. I picked him up and he smiled. I put him down and told him to leave, i think i screamed at him. I was terrified and locked myself into that room. I cried and cried , and then i got up and walked right into getting molested again. At least that boy was free. 

Not to fear though, I am much stronger and much more understanding of my own intentions. It appears I love people with no judgements, and for the longest time I thought it had to be sexual. But it doesn't. i think everyone is beautiful and i show my love to everyone and I am not afraid of that. I've learned it's ok to love everyone , its ok to believe in others and its ok give to others even if they are recognizing how beautiful your precious love is. I've learned to love just because i do.

I've experienced kids in a new school looking at me like i'm an alien; they had never met a coloured person before, they thought i spoke african. And i've also experienced those very kids grown up and speaking of me as If they had been surrounded by an angel. They spoke as if they had always looked up to me, so grateful to have had me there. 

I once took a friend of mine to a park that many a kids played in; there were so many things to do. I remember he had such a good time, i made sure of it. But i also remember him going back there, without me, and then running into me there and pretending he didn't know me. I remember sadness over this loss but i also remember a great serenity when an old friend had surface. He had seeked me out personally because he loved me. I remember that day. =)

I remember my dad would take me to church and we would be there for 2/3 days, i remember i once sang "secular" songs in front of some church friends. They were terrified of what might happen, but i sang like there was complete freedom. 

I remember crying and seeing others cry. I remember running in passion and in terror. I remember the confusion and the certainties. I remember a very diverse childhood and most of all i remember my loving nature and despite any of the situations i found myself in, i always stuck to it. I remember always thinking it had to be my fault because no one would so something on purpose, i trusted everyone. I trusted they didn't mean to. I still believe they didn't know any better. 


Phew, i have so many more but I am afraid this has been a long one you might have been snoring halfway through! 

Thank you for reading though! It's an interesting feeling typing this out, i think i almost want to type more out! ( right out of my system! )

Thank you, again.


LuckymeIshouldsee LuckymeIshouldsee
3 Responses Feb 25, 2010

Thank you! <br />
<br />
I wasn't sure how this would have been taken but you guys have shown appreciation and acceptance and I am most definitely honored. Your responses are what makes my past worth having lived. <br />
<br />
Thank you!

You do remind me of my best friend Rachel. She can tell her story with grace and style like you just have. She is always full of welcoming and love. You are too. I am so happy to have read this and you are a good writer, good style, very rhymic, descriptive and best of all, it is from your heart. And such a great heart it is.<br />

Wow..so many experiences for a relatively young age...it's wonderful you can see the good.<br />
You've endured so many challenges also...some I can't even imagine yet you chose goodness. It was not all right that your were molested...it's never all right...but you have wisdom and a kind heart...it stopped with you. Bravo! :)