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My Childhood Memories - Original Writing

Decent Essays

When you hear “home,” what do you think about? A perfect little cottage on the hillside, or a dream beach house with the waves crashing in the distance? The house you dream to own when you 're older. The little farm in the middle of nowhere, or the sturdy home in the Rocky Mountains surrounded with the perfectly green trees. Or do you think of your home, the little place you grew up, playing around with siblings, where you loved, laughed,and maybe had a fight now and then. The place that smells of fresh laundry and baked good during the holidays. Where you made the best memories of your childhood, with you imagination with friends, and family? For me, I think of the stone house with the long driveway, trees all way down the curvy road. The smell of evergreens, and freshly mowed lawns. A bit of fresh pulled dirt on the sidewalk from pulling the weeds in the flower bed. A home is the place of love and childhood memories. The ones you never forget, even if you don’t enjoy them right then, but laugh at when you get older. The ones you create with your family that make you closer together. I remember one specific day in early September. The trees just turning shades of red, yellow, and a bit of orange. The warm colored leaves shimmering in the sun of the afternoon. My sister racing beside me, feet pounding on the wooden porch, making our way off and abruptly sliding in the dirt to stop ourselves. The little grainy dirt sliding up my leg and between my fingers. The little

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