My Childhood Memories

In june 1994 my mama found out that she was pregnant, this was a shock because my mom wasn’t suppose to be able to birth another child. I became the little miracle growing inside her. The doctor told my parents he was going to do everything he could so I could live, he was a christian man and he told her “we’re going to pray that God does a miracle.” December 5th 1994, a c-section was performed and I was born a premature baby that weighed 2.5 pounds.

My old house was a huge part of my childhood. I lived there for 10 years. All of my childhood memories were made at.

I love that house we had so many memories in that house we group up there. I still remember my room. My room was decorated as princesses. What I love the most about my house was that my house was six blocks from my first elementary but once we move schools our house was only three block away from juanita jones elementary. When I was in 5th grade I came home one day and my parents and my neighbors had received a letter from the government saying that we had to move houses because they were going to expand the freeway so my parent started to find other houses I was sad about leaving I love that house I had so many memories. My house was next to a small liquor store call Bob's market. My sisters and i would always go to Bob's market before we went to school he would always give us free candy we still go and visit bob and his wife since our house is nearby but we don't visit as much.

This house was the best as a child it had a long drive way and big field of green grass and cows. I grew a big connection to my childhood house like roots to a tree. It was a little down the road from Mt.Peak and I would always going hiking because it was enjoying for me to be with nature. I remember elementary school and seeing the same faces in some of my classes tell this day. I met my best friend in kindergarten and I’m still really good friends. Growing up in a small town there was always the same faces and same people working at the local grocery store, it takes around a minute to walk through town, most of the time you can take a bike to your friend’s house, walking to school wasn’t that hard because it’s not far and of course the same old smell of

We are in the car hearing the tires move and jump, it’s just me, my mom, my dad, and my two brothers in the car. I’m listening to my music and I see my mom and dad talking. I also see my older brother falling asleep and my younger brother watching his show on our ipad. When we finally get there we are all a little tired but we don’t want to waste anytime, so we drove up to our beach house and it is huge and beautiful. It even has a kitchen.

That we’d get a house all to ourselves and we wouldn’t have to pay rent, or share with anyone. That our house would be big and nice and beautiful and have tons of space and look great. That we’d have a nice basement and I’d have the nicest room and we’d have a huge kitchen and bathroom, and a backyard I could play in, with grass as green as the leaves on the trees. That was the house my mom talked about constantly. But the house on Beach street is not exactly what I was picturing. When I got in, the house gave us a “welcome home”. The house is nice, however, the house isn’t that big and it is as old, and has a dark tone, like the midnight sky. The house is not what I expected, but it is still better than having no house, and the house is still great. I knew I had to have a house. A real house. One that I could point to. This is it. The house on beach

Roy, Timmy, and I sat on a log near a stream. Roy was the oldest out for all of us, and was more logical in his thinking. He was approaching ten, and was starting to demand respect. Timmy Was a little bit older then me, and was quite disgusting. I was the youngest, and being the only girl, I was often picked on by the older two. My ideas were often consider irrelevant, and because they never listened, we got into more trouble than necessary.

When I was five years old my family and I moved to arizona I did not want to move because I did not want to move far away from my cousins and aunts, so we started packing our things and I was kinda excited, but at the same time I did not want to leave the house I grew up and spend most of my childhood memories in. Once we arrived in arizona it all felt unreal and it felt like i was in vacation. We move into a big beautiful nice house and we lived there for two years and in those two years, we constantly moved from house to house. My dad thought he could make a better living in Arizona by building houses, but instead it was the opposite and we lost it all. We started losing money and it started going bad for my dad. At that time I lived in a two story house, my older sister will come and visit us sometimes; since she got married before we left, she was young we she got married she was 18.

The front was so nice since it has a gate around the whole house and we had our own people who stood at the gates to let whomever in. The back was all grass and had a pool with a trampoline and an outdoor bar and fire pit. There is a total of 6 rooms in that house and mine was a light pink color with a huge canopy bed and white furniture. Growing up there, I found a passion to read, color, draw and write. I played piano and sung and danced. I got a puppy who I named Daisy, she’s a golden retriever who at the time was only 6 weeks old. I once overheard my adopted parents talking about adopting another child, but this time, it would be a boy. I really did hope they would adopt a boy. Throughout the years i’ve lived with Alice and Royce, I would pick up multiple hobbies like painting and photography. I also would get all A’s, but school wasn’t at all hard for me. When it came to starting high school, I actually had to go to a real high school with hundreds of other teenagers my age, this sounds weird, but I was excited by the fact, that I could go to school with other kids my age and finally have friends. My dreams were to one day get accepted into Harvard or Yale University and study to become an adoptive caregiver or a

“ Oh is this our house, wate! This is our house” I said in excitement. Then I ran in and saw the kitchen the the bathrooms then my room. IT had a “Welcome Home” sign in my room. I went to my stuffed animals and told them I was all back. I gave a big hug to my parents and told them that

When some people think of home they think of the place they go to after a long day, or the place they sleep at night. There is so much more to make a home a home, home may not even be a place; home may be a person. My home is my family, my mom in particular though. She is a fighter, a great cook and an even better role model.

Every person is in need of a home. It is a place that feels natural and welcoming. It instills a sense of belonging. A home doesn’t have to be a specific dwelling, for it has many different definitions and meanings for each individual. What is universal is the feelings one receives when they are in their home. It is a place that protects them from the struggles and obstacles that life inevitably thrusts onto people. It is a safe haven. For me this particular feeling is bestowed upon me every time I step foot into my grandparent’s house. My grandparent’s house is my home and it will forever fill me with the unconditional love, happiness and security that my family has given my entire life. My heart is there.

During 5th grade year of 2016, almost once every week my parents would go and look for a house. I would remind them everyday that the house we have is great and there is no need to find another. In that house I have lived there at least eight years, which is most of my life so far. Till this day it has always been my favorite house, and the perfect house. I have made so many memories there it is impossible to count. I loved it.

As I take a look back on my life, I realize how great it has truly been. I had an absolutely amazing childhood and I am beyond blessed for it. I grew up in a home with two loving parents that have been with me through it all and now of days that is something to be truly thankful for. My parents taught me to strive to be anything that I wanted and that I could be anything that I set my mind to. These dreams changed throughout my life as I grew older and as I grew into the person that I am today.

What is home? A home doesn’t consist of objects or possessions; a home is a place filled with memories, love, and happiness. Home isn’t a physical place, it’s a feeling of affection inside of a house. When I think of the word home, I think of a safe zone. It’s a place where one can feel sheltered by things from the outside world. Home is a place that I can count on to provide stability and structure in my life. It’s a place I can be my complete self and express any emotions I may be feeling, without being judged. At the age of twelve, my parents got divorced and the meaning of “home” changed. I often moved back and forth between parents and did not have a steady place to stay. Even though while growing up I faced many different family challenges and struggles each day, it has shaped my identity and provided me with many life lessons. My experiences can set examples to my peers by portraying that nothing is guaranteed and anything is bound to change at any given time. If I could give any words of wisdom to my peers it would be to never take your family for granted because it can be gone in the blink of an eye. I am thankful for the setback that I was given because I was able to make a powerful comeback. More importantly, I have had the opportunity to find who I truly am as a person throughout this journey.