My First Memories Of A Small Town In My Life

The biggest memories that come to me are going to church in my hometown. Every Sunday was a special schedule. I got to wear my best clothes of the week, which was usually a dress, long socks, and a bow for my hair. Once my whole family was ready we would walk to church. On our way, my mom would often stop and talk to neighbors. Sometimes I would have to remind her that we were going to church or tell her that we were going to be late. Mass was an hour or so. After mass, my mom and dad would give me money to buy an ice cream or junk food. When I finished my ice cream, we would walk home with neighbors who lived on the same street. Walking home everybody would talk about how beautiful the ceremony was and how well the priest explained the Gospel. I loved the sense I was given by my neighbors. Comforting and belonging is what I felt when I was around them. McClay and McAllister refer to this as “anchor our memories in something more substantial than our thoughts and emotions,” which is my hometown connecting me back to my neighbors at my

The first coherent memory inlaid unto the folds of my mind is coming to in our kitchen, turning to my mother, and subjecting her to a barrage of questions pertaining to my bodily functions. Many of my questions were answered later, by my grandfather. While he was babysitting me, as he often did, the television would frequent documentaries instead of the usual childhood fare, and he would answer all of the questions said programs conjured in my young mind. Eventually I managed to persuade my mother to teach me how to read. Once I obtained literary skill the heavens opened, and

Everyone has their first memory when they have to enter the adult world, mine just happened to be my junior year of high school. This year was just a little glimpse of what was going to be the rest of my life. Getting my first job was bitter sweet. I had to learn how to manage my time between school, sports, and now a job. After my first week of school I had to start my new job.

At a mere age of ten, seeing trees and mountains pass by through the window of a speeding car. Sitting in the back of the van with the radio blaring and yelling of four other kids. A mix of emotions, happy, sad, excited. We were moving to North Carolina. That was six short years ago. It wasn’t until I turned 15 that I realized, my life is flying by. I had just been in the fifth grade in a very small school. I was excited to explore what else this big world had to offer. I had known I loved the mountains. I was very excited to meet new people and live in a different climate. Over all I loved the idea.

Now when I say tiny town I mean it. The population is about 1,400 people with one gas station, one grocery store, and 2 restaurants with some gift shops. The first time I saw Grand Marais we drove into town and in a blink of an eye it was gone. I’ve never seen anything like this other than in movies. We finally got to her cabin, and it was one of three houses on that entire road which at first seemed horrific. But something I’ll never forget is how bright the stars were. We stood outside and saw every star in that sky, since there wasn’t many neighbors with their lights on, or highways with a cluster of traffic. The first morning I was ther, Brooklyn started to show me some amazing spots such as Hurricane river, Tahquamenon Falls, Marquette Harbor, and so much more. I got to experience a place that most people don't even realize is on the map. When the vacation was finally over I asked my friends back at home what they did. Which you can probably guess was them glued to their phones and laptops all summer. I had an amazing summer that I’ll always remember, and I'm glad it didn't involve

I grew up an only child, without a brother or sister to look up to. Although I have a large family with many cousins, they all go home after the party. Then I would be alone, but that was all before I found my Friends.

The transition from elementary into middle school was tough, in fact I did not do well the first semester of that year. During these school years was unbeliebable the amount of people I met, especially my best friend. We used to play soccer a lot and ride bicycle all day long. Unfotunally, within those cheerful years my brother came to the US, which at the time felt like the worst thing that could've happened to me.

Both of her parents were born in small towns, but got educated and then settled in big cities. They would tell their offspring that life in the city was far better than in the country. Little wonder their daughter Jane loved the urban life and its energy. Sadly, beginning

I grew up in a world of little things. I appreciated the details in my daily life - the way my mothers voice changed as she read to me, the innumerable times my father checked his pockets before leaving for work. I liked the comfort of cramped library corners and well explored territory and small state schools. Growing up in Asheville, I considered myself wordly enough- I couldn’t imagine anything bigger than the mountains and stories ever-present around town.

Living and growing up in a small town is better than doing so in a big city.

I spent the majority of my time in high school by myself, studying late into the night and spending entire weekends practicing piano whenever I had the chance. I wasn’t lonely by any means, but alone nonetheless. Because I wasn’t particularly close with anyone at school save for a few friends, it was easy for me to pack up my life into a few neat boxes and drive a thousand miles from Texas to Michigan.

Eighteen years ago Julie Carol Parton (my loving mother) and Ric Parton (my inspirational father) brought Logan Parton (that's me) into this unique and vastly changing world. Little did I know that one day I was going to set immensely challenging goals to achieve. I grew up in a small town, near the corner of Indiana, known as Vevay. For the early portions of my life I lived on a middle sized farm with my family. There always was two different perspectives within our household. On one side of the house there was my father and my oldest sister Christina, and on the other side was my mother and my middle sister Melisa. The perspective that my father and oldest sister shared was that they both felt the want to make money and move away from Vevay, on the other side my mother and middle sister had the mindset of wanting to be farmers and

I would have never thought that I would grow up to love the country life. I went from growing up in a big, busy, and hectic city, to a small, slow-paced, and simple town. I was so used to having neighbors, and walking and biking on a side-walk. Now I live on a gravel road with almost no neighbors. A change in environment really influences a person's personality. I now love the silence and hearing the birds chirp and coyete’s howl. The corn fields go on for miles and the sunsets are breathtaking.

A ways away from a town that I call home, I found a happy place. I often find myself walking through the park by myself. The beautiful trees, the way the yellow and red leaves crumple under my feet every step I take. When the flowers bloom and how it's the most spectacular sight you could ever imagine seeing, all the different colors that appear. When you breathe in and you get this smell of purity, you feel free and alive. Sometimes I like to sit on the old wooden bench where the bench frame is a little rusted, and I get rid of my thoughts and my eyes search the sky. In the winter the icy breeze makes me shiver, and the cold air I take in, is like sitting in front of an air conditioner and breathing in. Some mornings the sun beams across the sky, which is not quite blue yet, but the sun has almost fully risen. When the wind blows, it grazes over the blades of grass. Some days I just stand and take a deep breath in and I can taste the spring. When summer comes around, and the bees are buzzing, and the hot sun beats on the back of my neck, I lay on the soft grass and listen, to the birds chirping a beautiful song, and the kids playing in the park. The sky is the bluest view in sight.

I remember myself sitting near a little block with letters and my mother teaching me the name of each of them. She starts to sing me a song to help me to memorize the alphabet. It is so funny singing the ABC song. At that instant, the door opens, and my father enters the room. That is the first thing carved in my memory, and each time when I think about it, I conclude that we are the best family in the world.