Thoughts of the Past
by Karisa Coleman
Table of Contents
He Pushed the Puppet House...................................................................................................1
Cabin Scars.............................................................................................................................2
Summer in Hawaii....................................................................................................................3
Hair.........................................................................................................................................4
Worst Summer ever.................................................................................................................5
“He Pushed the Puppet House”
When I was younger- about six or seven years old, me and my friend Tatiana went to this program for kids at this school called Synergy after school on certain days of the week. I remember one day all of the kids were playing and running around the room after taking their naps as they waited for their parents to come pick them up. Me, Tatiana and a few other kids were playing behind the puppet pox where kids could put on little puppet shows. As we were all playing, having a good time, this other little boy came up with rage in his eyes. Neither I, nor any of the other kids were quite sure what he was so upset about. However, we knew he was pretty mad as he aggressively pushed the wooden puppet house down on all of us. As a fifteen year old this doesn't seem like a harmless act, but in the back of my head I can still remember the horror that went through my mind as this seemingly enormous figure fell on top of me and all of my friends. Now that I think back, it seemed as though this square figure could have crushed me and my friends, but as you grow up, what seemed large and a big deal to you can seem like nothing.
“Cabin Scars”
For as long as I can remember, my family and I have gone on annual camping trips every summer. I always had so much fun playing with my cousins and enjoying time with my aunts and uncles, and all my other family members. One summer I distinctly recall because I still have a scar on my knee that prevents the memory from fading. On one camping trip we went, to we were all sitting around the brown wooden tables eating lunch and my mom asked me to go get a drink for her from our cabin. I remember running there and when I tried walking up the two small steps I tripped and fell on my knees. This probably wouldn't have hurt so bad if it was just wood I fell on, however the front of the porch in this cabin had some sort of sand-papery material on the floor, probably to prevent people from slipping. Unfortunately it is what gave me the scar I still have on my left knee today. It severely scratched me, and my knee was bleeding tremendously. I was crying and in so much pain as the red blood flooded from my leg. What made it worse was that after this I was afraid to go swimming because I was worried that it would make my new cut sting. Although my trip and fall on my camping trip was unpleasant at the moment, it is now a marked memory of one of my family camping trips.
“Summer in Hawaii”
The summer of my transitioning year to seventh grade was probably one of the best summers a kid could have. I was so happy when my parents told me they would let me go to Hawaii during the summer, and the coolest part- I got to go with out them. When I was about to enter the seventh grade my parents agreed to let me fly to Hawaii on my own to spend about a month with my cousins who lived there. While I was there I had a great time staying on the beach and wandering around the island with my cousin. We also met another girl who was from California as well and we all had a pretty good time. We would go to the beach at least once day and would get ice cream just as often. Back then, although I tremendously enjoyed my vacation in Hawaii, I didn't think I would want to live there because of the sun. That may still be the case, however despite the constant hot weather I don't think I would mind living there at all.
“Hair”
I have a very large family and everyone has a different kind of hair. My mom has curly hair that is a little less curlier than mine, which I love and wish mine were the same. You can't tell because he shaves it, but my dad also has curly hair which is closer to resembling mine rather than my mom's. I have many cousins who have different kinds of hair. My cousin Nasia has dark blonde hair than stretches down all the way to her hips. It is silky and straight and reminds me of mermaid hair. It's super thick, which makes it hard to comb, but it is very nice. Another one of my cousins Sophia used to have the same kind of hair except it was black. When she was a teenager and in her early twenties, her hair also swept all the way down her back. I remember when I was little and I loved playing with is. A few years ago she cut her hair to a bob, but it is now growing back and is at her shoulders. Although it isn't very long anymore, it is still silky and healthy- which I envy, and always smells like flowers. These are just a few members of my family to name who have different types of hair.
“Worst Summer Ever”
Summer is supposed to be one of the most exciting times in a kids life. Unfortunately this was not the case for me in the year 2006. When I was about ten years old, my friend Michele and I went to, what was supposed to be a “super fun” summer camp. It was located in the forests of Santa Cruz and was my first time going to sleep away camp. As Michele and I sat in the back seat of her mom's small silver car, we were so excited to reach our destination as we drove through the mountains, past the ten feet tall, dark green trees. When we each said our goodbyes to our parents I was a bit nervous, but I tried to convince myself that everything would be fine and that I would have a great time. However, the complete opposite is what happened. The next morning I realized that we would be woken up every morning to pray. This was a religious camp, but even at this time of my life I wasn't too “spiritual” since I never went to church. However, I stuck through it as we sat around the unlit campfire with the smell of pine trees in the air and participated in the morning activity. As the next day came I was wondering what we were doing during the afternoon and I soon found out what this was: raking leaves in the forest. The counselors and all the other adults who ran the camp said this was good “service” for the place we were staying at, but I just thought it was ridiculous. Aren't leaves meant to be in the forest? But all I could do was continue to soldier on and participate. On the third day, I began to have a reaction to the pollen that filled the air and my eyes became red and puffy. By this time I couldn't wait to go home and when the day to be picked up finally came, I couldn't wait to arrive back home in the bustling city. Now, I know I will never go back to that camp again.