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Each of us carries countless memories from our childhood.
I was born during the war , and I still remember those days vividly, when missiles would cross the sky above us in crisscross patterns. But I don’t want to talk about war.
I want to speak of the symbols we each carry from our early years. Objects we can never truly part with, because they’ve become a part of who we are. And when we look at them, they bring back all the memories of childhood;
For some of us, it’s like a silent film quietly playing in the back of our minds.
Amid the routines and noise of adults life, sometimes the only thing that can return us to our pure, unfiltered selves;
Is a simple doll, a tiny toy car, or even the familiar sound of an old toy.
These are not just objects, they carry the scent of childhood dreams, hope and a sense of safety.
And how precious it is that some of us still keep a small corner of life for these memories…
A quiet place, yet full of life, where the child within us, though silent, is still alive, waiting for someone to call its name again. 14 replies
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