We Do Not Remember Days We Remember Moment

The most vivid memory I recall is of the first trip I ever made to my happy place, Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Nothing could ever compare to those 5 days of pure happiness, without a single worry in the world. I truly believe this one little trip shaped the way I want to live the rest of my life.

After all he was a complete stranger. I was fourteen and I felt like my life had been altered without my permission. I saw him once more after this initial meeting. We went to White Castle with my other siblings. As a child I struggled with my weight. I remember not ordering a lot of food. I didn’t want him to think I was fat. I made sure to be polite and engaging. I wanted him to accept me. I wanted him to like me. I talked about school. But I made sure not to brag about my good grades. He asked me about boys and although at the time there was a boy I liked, I didn’t dare tell him that. He laughed at my vague response and said he didn’t want to have to hurt some knucklehead boy. In that moment I felt safe, protected. It felt so good.

Memories can last a life time, so we tend to only remember the extraordinary ones. Extraordinary like the essay “The Yellow Ribbon” by Pete Hamill, in which he talks about how a person named Vingo, was riding on a, bus recently released from jail, to this oak tree explaining to some passengers that he had told his wife to leave him if she wanted, since he went to jail or to go to this oak tree and tie a yellow ribbon around it to see if she wants him to stick around and he will go and check it out. In the end, he saw hundreds of ribbons tied on to the tree. Not only is this an amazing story, but also very unforgettable one as well, because he finds out that after four years in jail his wife has enough love for him to go to this tree and tie hundreds of ribbons just to show the type of love the women had for Vingo. I have to say that, I believe this story is truly unforgettable, but I also got a story that is very extraordinary, like the time that I got my very first car. Furthermore, I didn’t just get a car, I got the love of two truly loving parents.

I think I was about 11 years of age. It was a warm September evening. Our family was getting ready for another cookout. For those of you who don’t know, cookouts are when my family invites other family and/or friends over to cook hot dogs and toast marshmallows over a fire pit in our backyard. Usually after that my dad and I will usually play backyard baseball.

I was seven years old and it was in the middle of the summer and I almost got run over by a car. The day was going really good just like any other summer day; I got up, got dressed, ate breakfast, and went outside to play. For breakfast that day we had pancakes that tasted like they were made by angels. Before Chris and I went outside our mom yelled, “Be back by lunch or I’m going to send your dad out there to get you!”

My mom laughed nervously “Ha! We just walked through the Tenderloin… Let’s just pretend that never happened.”

The author also emphasis that it is important that one cherish the good times at childhood because there is an excellent likelihood that the childhood feelings will never be experienced again as one grows older. She says that it is important to enjoy the childhood to the full since the memories of our childhood may be the only

When we think back to our childhoods, we generally remember our prominent memories. I remember sitting in a stroller in Walt Disney World with a Popsicle melting in my hand, and I remember the last time I visited my grandmother before she passed away. I also have insignificant memories. I remember one morning when I was around the age of six, I came downstairs with my hair in knots and a blanket still wrapped around my shoulders. I then crawled onto a tall chair at the kitchen counter and turned on the TV, as I did every morning. “Good morning, honey.” My mother said behind me.

During the service, I set alone towards the back of the church. There were a couple of people who sat around me but no one sat right next to me. Even though I was unfamiliar with the religion and the rituals that took place, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I’m a very sociable person so I didn’t mind speaking to others around me and attempting to engage in conversation. No one offered to sit with me but anytime they sang a song, the gentlemen to my right would bring me the hymn and direct me to the song that was being sung. I feel as though he could tell I was a visitor because from time to time, he would ask me if I understood what was going on and I just smiled.

I said, “Let me get that for you.” What I pulled out the was a tray full of the most delicious pies I have ever laid eyes on. “These are most amazing looking pies ever,” I said in awe.

I asked the young man would it be okay for me to pray before we get started. And then I would ask him to first forgive himself, because that is a heavy burden to carry. Then I would ask him if he believe that God is a healer. And sense he did come to a church I would hope he would understand that we would talk about Christ. I would ask him, how would you think your mother would feel if she could see you now? And hopefully he would feel that she would be proud. I would ask him to think of the good times they had. I like to just sit and listen to his thoughts and try not to overwhelm him with so many questions. I would like to know what he was thinking so I could help him the best way I know how. I would ask God to help me to help him. Because he would know best how to handle this situation. Because with Gods guidance I know I can handle any situation. He is always there for me when I need him, so I know he wouldn’t fail me now. So hopefully he would get something out of this session and not feel

“Honey it's time for dinner.” she said it in a tone which made it sound like she wanted to eat and talk about it.

My story begins when I was in the second grade. Times were good, and I was enjoying my childhood. On a certain Sunday I and my mom attended church, as we did on other Sunday’s. This time though my dad decided not to come with us because he said he was tired. So we were off on our own doing our regular Sunday activities.

"Never forget the past…because it may haunt you forever. Regret all the bad things…cherish the good things. Look ahead always…but don't let the bad things from the past get in your mind." As a young child, there were so many incidents in my life that made me become the person I am today. There were rough times as well as good times. If I were to tell you all of them, I would remember half of them. I think some of my incidents really had some impact, and some were just simple ways of life. To tell you the truth, the incident that had the most impact on me has to be when my real father left me at the age of three. I never knew my father. I mean being a baby, you really have no experience or recognition of somebody else.

There are certain memories that we have that we can remember like they happened yesterday. Many of those memories that have special meaning to me were of family vacations when I was young growing up with my brothers and sisters. Family memories are important to many of us because they take us back to a time or place that was special. One particular family vacation I remember vividly, and it’s a story I have shared with my kids on many occasions. Over the 40 or more years since that memorable vacation, I still smile and think how lucky I was growing up with a mother and father that did everything to give their kids an unforgettable memory.