humanity
Humanity begins at home.
Cabin Stories
You might think that a cabin on top of the Alpes would have everything a person needs to have an easy-going life. But what if I tell you that despite the luxuries--redwood, marble, and a collection of first edition hardcover books--it's a dull place for someone who grew up with technology all around him. And yes, I'm talking about me. I sigh. Even if we had internet, with no electronics, it's obsolete to even think about it.
By Jose Duron5 years ago in Families
Kilend's Heart
Kilend’s Heart Caring for One Another Kilend was a little boy who lives with his mother Lauren and little brother DJ who has Autism. He was playing outside one day with DJ when they decided to go into the wood behind their house. They were looking at the trees and bugs on the ground. They went a little furter into the woods then they should, but they were having fun. The came upon a creek and started to toss rocks across the creek. His little brother DJ was so excited because he was with his big brother. They played in the woods by the creek and tried to climb the trees around them. Kilend heard a noise, so he told DJ to be quiet so they could hear the noise more clearly. The became very quiet then the sound came again. It was their mother Lauren calling them. Kilend thought, she must be worried, so he told DJ we have to go home now, Mom is calling us. They started to walk toward home when Kilend saw something on the ground. DJ said Kilend what is it you found. Kilend picked up the object. It was a rusty metal box. Kilend opened it and there was a lot of money in the box. The boys were amazed and ran home to their mother.
By Michele Austin5 years ago in Families
Jagged Little Pills...
Christmas Eve 1983 I can still smell the sulphur and feel the scabs on my head. My head was a mine field of sticky, bloody patches. I would pick on them and pull whole strands of my hair out. My grandmother, that evil witch, relaxed my hair at 4 years old. She was told by a friend just as shady as her, both in their hot pink foam rollers as they sat and sipped on their Bustelo...that if she put chemicals on my scalp, my 3rd eye would calcify and close. It burned so bad.
By Jessie Perozo5 years ago in Families
Post #3 - In the early 70s this Big Old House became my home
Sotomayor 593 It couldn’t have been a worse time to attempt a reconciliation with Tatita and Nona. Chile had just recently fallen under a dictatorship, which made it rather difficult for anyone to move freely within Santiago.
By The Venus Quest5 years ago in Families
A Hypothesized Barn Owl
My early childhood is blurry, specifically memories with family. The blurriness focuses around the age of seven- which how incredibly convenient, considering the most impressionable years of a child’s life are their first seven years. My foundation was beautifully damned from the beginning. Beautiful, because if it was not damned, I never would have known resilience. When trying to access and reflect upon these aged memories, I’m met with flashes of emotionally charged situations a seven-year-old child has no business being a part of. Most of those emotions fueled of anger and spite, stemming from personal unsatisfaction. My parents were unhappily married with troubled backgrounds themselves, so they did the only thing they knew how to when being faced with unprocessed emotions. They would take out their frustration on whoever or whatever was around them, or they would run from their demons- and their children. I can attest to the saying “you are the natural byproduct of your environment.” As a result, I become an anxiety-induced, socially awkward kid and later teen. However, opposed to the voluntary element implied in that saying, there is not much a child can do to change their surroundings. Despite the limited freedom a seven (or so) year old has, I was lucky enough to discover an escape of sorts. The tiny blue barn offset to the right of our cookie-cutter farmhouse.
By Finley Gray5 years ago in Families
