Looking Back

It was a period of innocence, when it seemed as if time did not go by as fast as it seems to be doing so in the present.

My childhood, on the whole, was pleasant, except for a few family setbacks. The purpose of this article is to dwell on certain events that I remember — those that are indelibly stamped on my mind. It was a period of innocence, when it seemed as if time did not go by as fast as it seems to be doing so in the present.

It was a phase in my life when I was not concerned about my own welfare.  My parents did the worrying on my behalf . My only preoccupation at the time was the routine of playing with those of my peers and in the process, enjoying every moment. I remember many occasions when I used to be pampered and even spoiled by my father who doted on his children. He was kind and generous, a trait that we all took for granted.

While time might take away memories of certain ordinary events that had taken  place during my childhood, it was kind enough to spare those that keep lingering in my memory. My mother was kind, too, but in a sense, strict and demanding.  It seemed as if she would act as the moderator in the family. She would insist on the completion of my homework and, in a likable, gentle manner, exercise her authority in the way of instructing us to behave properly, both at home and elsewhere. There was no pressure on time, as if its partiality toward childhood was, in a sense, congenially deliberate.

For instance, I clearly remember when my father would take my siblings and me to a particular ice cream parlor where we would enjoy some of the best selections of mouth-watering flavors as a specialty and ask for more. Birthday celebrations were a “must” for all of us. Some of the other children in the neighborhood would be invited. It was a time of fun and frolic, as I would wait for the right moment when I would open each and every package of gift with joy and expectation.

I remember when I would go camping with some of the teachers and guardians of my school. I considered their sense of love and responsibility for the children’s health and welfare as being at par with parental love and care. I recall the good times that I enjoyed at the zoo, together with the rest of the family, the picnics and a particular botanical garden that we would visit from time to time; a popular location at the beach, in the vicinity of a restaurant where we would eat.

Sometimes, I wonder if love that is experienced during childhood could be compared to adulthood when there must be a two-way commitment.  As a child, I felt safe in the embrace of my parents. The feeling was unadulterated by doubt and suspicion.  My memory of the love that I experienced as a child was in a class by itself, unrivalled and unforgettable.



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