There is so much magic in childhood, just waiting to be discovered.
Magic portals. Fairy houses. Tree Forts. All in my backyard. Those are just some of my favorite memories from my childhood.
I grew up on a couple of acres surrounded by trees. Our house belonged to my Grandma Mary and Grandpa Will until I was seven years old. The home was a place where you got to frolic on the lawn with your sister on a hot summer day, splash in the kiddy pool and pick flowers with your Grandma in her beautiful gardens.
We never needed toys since there was plenty of space for our imaginations to run wild. My sister, cousins, friends and I would run through the backyard like it was Disney World. I remember thinking the arbor (under which my brother was later married) was actually a portal that could take me to any place or time imaginable.
Our parents kicked us outside as soon as the sun rose during summer vacation. And when their workday was done, they joined us in the backyard. My parents would put the speakers to the record player in the window.
We’d dance through the herb garden while they sat on our front porch with a cool drink. We lit citronella candles to ward off the mosquitoes and played until the fireflies went to bed.
These are the moments of my magic childhood that I hope to share with Annabelle.
I’m so thankful my childhood was filled with wonderment and laughter, not video games and t.v.. My parents still live in my childhood home, so the possibility of her discovering the same joys is exciting. They recently remodeled their house and built on an addition. The herb garden no longer exists, as well as many of the trees, but I know they will plant beautiful flowers and a new wonderland will appear.
I hope to teach Annabelle how to trap a lightening bug in a mason jar, and then to let it go right before the night is over. I want to build a tiny home for the fairies that will live in her Noni’s garden. I want to teach her to stop and smell every flower.
She needs to know to identify the herbs growing by their scent, and to know what it feels like to have grass tickle her bare toes. I want her to giggle while she chases her sibling or cousins through the sprinkler. I want to show her how to catch a butterfly on her nose.