I grew up on a farm next to a larger farm that belonged to my best friend Annie’s parents. We were two little girls whose families were too busy for us and our days were spent making dreams come true.
We found thrown out bikes in the neighbors trash and that neighbor helped us get them running, I painted mine fuchsia with sixties style daisies, Annie copied the fuchsia but put happy faces on hers. We found old wood in the barn to make a Barbie dream house like the one we saw on TV only it didn’t really look the same when we were finished. We decorated its interior with material our mom’s tossed out and made a few dresses by cutting holes for the head and arms and tying the waste with hay bail rope. They were the prettiest dresses I ever had because I made them and told stories about my great talents to people who liked listening to me.
We learned to swim in another neighbor’s pool. No one else on that secluded dead end road socialized with the two female teachers who bought a farm and appeared to be a couple. I am still friends with one of them, the other passed away a few years back. She brought culture into Annie’s and my life and encouraged us to behave like little ladies.
Each Halloween we spent days making our costumes and laughed for days after remembering compliments each neighbor made while eating candy bought special for us, because we were the only remaining young children on that road. Alone in the dark we walked through the woods, scared and clinging to each other, to the houses at the end of the road…
We accepted each others wonders about boys and sought answers that didn’t really pan out as truths. But most importantly, we healed each others childhood wounds.
I don’t wish to return to a time when I had limited control of my fate but I wish everyone else didn’t stop chasing dreams. So what if it doesn’t work, wouldn’t it be really cool if it did or better yet a different result is achieved that is bigger and better?
2007-07-22
02:33:42
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3 answers
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asked by
Traveler
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in
Psychology