Essay about My Memories Of My Childhood

Essay about My Memories Of My Childhood

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There are many ways to describe my childhood, but stable is not one of them. My family moved into four different homes by the time I was seven years old. On an evening occasion in our house, my mother might be cleaning chicken while my father prepares the oil to fry it. Then we would sit together eating, talking, and laughing. However, on another evening my mother would be lying on the floor crying while holding the side of her face as my dad was standing over her yelling, lifting his hands in anger. I usually sat in my bedroom doorway holding my knees tightly as I sobbed loudly. Violence in our house came in waves while music and laughter filled the days between. On the day chaos visited, I would weep quietly in my pillow at night wishing it was my weekend with “Nana” and “Grumpy.” Love and respect flourished in their home. Excitement always filled me as I entered my grandparents’ home, as the light from the doorway would fill the room, my eyes were always drawn towards the glittering gold menorah that sat on top of the velvet, royal purple cloth that covered their altar. A menorah is a seven stemmed candle holder. The main stem that rises from the rounded base has three branches that stretch out horizontally to each side. Each branch has equally spaced joints on them and curve up in a wide “u” shape. Each stem ends with a bowl that holds a candlestick. Though I held an awe for the menorah, I was not allowed to touch. The menorah was deemed sacred. For several reasons, my grandfather’s menorah is my most treasured possession.

Seeing the menorah on the altar created a warmth in me because of my grandparents’ love for me. Grumpy would greet me by wrapping me up in his arms. Nana would invite me into kitchen to help her...

... middle of paper ..., and now involved in a human trafficking awareness movement called Unbound. My goal is to know God and make Him known to the hurt and forsaken youth.

Although my grandparents passed on fifteen years ago I think of them often. I still wonder what life would have been like had I not had their love, sanctuary, and teachings. Their legacy has shaped my perspicacity of life. Grumpy’s menorah became a part of my inheritance ten years ago. My mom understood how much it would mean to me so my mom, aunts and uncles gave it to me. Anyone walking in my home sees it sitting at the forefront of the living room. It The menorah is a reminder of my grandparents and to keep God preeminent. As it turns out the gold menorah is solid brass. It has developed corrosion, but to me, it is still the shiny, golden, sacred treasure that symbolizes love, peace, and my identity.

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