Personal Narrative: My Childhood Memories Of Sledding

Sledding is a childhood experience full of laughter and excitement. From the first time a child is pulled in a sled to the time when they attempt their first crazy sledding feat, wonderful memories are being created. Sometimes these memories blur together like snowflakes in a January wind. Happy memories with forgotten details, but still leading to the same ending; delight. Most of my sledding memories were like this; running through backyards and flying down hills. Sometimes however, memories are not always delightful. One memory in particular fell into that category. Several years ago, it was an early Christmas morning at my Grandparents house. The sun was pouring through the windows and the smell of breakfast still hung in the air. The setting was optimal for a great day of happy memories that would only be recalled in short term. What was to follow was anything but a short term memory. Sledding at Indian Hill had been a family tradition. This menacing hill seemed to slope straight down and I can remember standing at the bottom and feeling like I was about to embark a three day hike up a mountain. Looking back on it now, I am not even sure that it was that steep. But at seven, this monstrous hill was like a mortal enemy. It was so cold outside it seemed

My leg had, of course, completely healed but the scar still remained. I regained full mobility of it and it has yet to cause any problems. Yet, ten years later I can still clearly remember this particular memory with a good amount of accuracy. I do not think it is because I’m mentally “scarred” the experience, yet I am still hesitant to go sledding. I think a lot of why I remember this so well is because it was an event that taught me so many lessons about so any different things. These lessons included large, overwhelming things like determination and perseverance, but also obscure things like perspective and