The Worst Childhood Everyone in this world has events from childhood that include some people, places or situations. Some may have sad memories they do not want to remember, and some may have happy memories that they always want to remember. But, for me my childhood was the worst part of my life, and I won’t never forget. I lived on the countryside where there were traditional people who lived a simple life. I was born in 1973, in a very poor family. Can you imagine when people pass by the door of the house and see the sadness in their face because of our poorly? That was cut me into pieces. One day on a dark endless night, Jul 22 1980, I was only six years old when my right ear hurt me. I felt lonely crying with no sound. I couldn’t close my eyes. I didn’t want any of my family to wake up. Minutes were longer than hours. I was waiting for the morning to tell my mom, and I wish my brother could back from his college to be with me. On the morning, I heard some sounds in the living room, I started to cry loud so my mom could heard me, but not really she heard me crying, or not I was not sure. I heard her locking the door of the house then, I got up very quick to tell her before she went to make …show more content…
After two hours, my turn came, I was nervous. I doctor asked me to told him what happened, then he talked to my brother alone and I couldn’t know what the problem is. After we done with the doctor we went to the pharmacy to buy the medicine that he asked us to buy. In the way to home, he bought me some food and we went to see the pyramids. I felt that it the only happy I got, and I didn’t want the day to pass. But the happiness never complete at all. At this night, I got a feverr and all my body was sweating. My brother gave me a cold shower and he sit studying next to me all night until the fever came
When I was younger, I remember feeling as though I lived in a bubble; my life was perfect. I had an extremely caring and compassionate mother, two older siblings to look out for me, a loving grandmother who would bake never ending sweets and more toys than any child could ever realistically play with. But as I grew up my world started to change. My sister developed asthma, my mother became sick with cancer and at the age of five, my disabled brother developed ear tumors and became deaf. As more and more problems were piled upon my single mother’s plate, I, the sweet, quiet, perfectly healthy child, was placed on the back burner. It was not as though my family did not love me; it was just that I was simply, not a priority.
People need to be aware that what happens to children, as they are growing up, can affect them in many different ways. Children should have wonderful memories of their life, but unfortunately the ones that suffered from abuse growing up, still struggle today. The memory of the mind works in mysterious ways and often never allows one to forget the past. They struggle throughout their life in dealing with society, fear of trust, and a broken self-esteem.
Childhood can be seen as a social status with multiple meanings and expectations attached to it without a clearly defined end or beginning (Montgomery 2009), This essay will introduce different sociological perspectives on what childhood is since childhood is not universal rather is it mobile and shifting this means children experience various childhoods there are local and global variations(Waller 2009), a Childs experience can be influenced by their gender, ethnicity, culture and social class which this essay will expand on. The essay will then move forward to focusing on childhood in local and global countries to investigate the differences they have among each other lastly the essay will go onto ways an professional can help acknowledge all children diversity and create an inclusive environment regardless of their differences (Penn 2008).inclusion provides support to all children so that their experiences in an educational; setting encourages them to be as involved and independent as possible as well as help them understand the differences among their class mates
For seventeen years, I had been living with godmother’s family in Thailand. My parents left the country to find the new job since I was nine years old. My life was
Popular contemporary author, George R.R. Martin, once said: “Summer will end soon, and my childhood as well.” The six poems discussed explore the different aspects of childhood, and portray childhood as a brief but magical ‘summer’-time, especially Piano and Hide and Seek, which emphasize this by alluding to the constrictions of adulthood and the warmth of juvenescence. While Gareth Owen’s Salford Road avoids any portrayals of adulthood, it might map the progression of childhood to adulthood like Vernon Scannell’s Hide and Seek, and thus accentuate the carefree lives that children lead. Meanwhile, Half Past Two by UA Fanthorpe and Houses by Robert Hull focus instead on the freedom and creativity childhood brings, and therefore presents the theme of childhood in a more playful light reminiscent of Martin’s summer. Finally, Soap Suds by Louis Macniece brings the briefness of childhood into focus, much like summer in the span of a year.
Seventeen years ago, I came bounding into a world of love and laughter. I was the first child, the first grandchild, the first niece, and the primary focus of my entire extended family. Although they were not married, my parents were young and energetic and had every good intention for their new baby girl. I grew up with opportunities for intellectual and spiritual growth, secure in the knowledge that I was loved, free from fear, and confident that my world was close to perfect. And I was the center of a world that had meaning only in terms of its effect on me-- what I could see from a height of three feet and what I could comprehend with the intellect and emotions of a child. This state of innocence persisted through my early teens, but changed dramatically in the spring of my sophomore year of high school. My beloved father was dying of AIDS.
It was the middle of the night when my mother got a phone call. The car ride was silent, my father had a blank stare and my mother was silently crying. I had no idea where we were headed but I knew this empty feeling in my stomach would not go away. Walking through the long bright hallways, passing through an endless amount of doors, we had finally arrived. As we
We were interrupted by a phone call from my dad. My mom was still joking and in a silly mood when she started talking to my dad. Suddenly the conversation turned from joking to dead silence and my mom started crying. She tearfully asked, "Is she ok? Was she alone?" I was thinking my sister went riding and fell off her horse or that something had happened to my grandma.
I had no place to call home. My mom had not come to visit me one time, and I had only received a hand full of letters from her. She told me in those letters that she was sick, and I couldn’t live with her (She died of cancer a little over a year after my release). My twenty-three-year-old brother was a drug addict, so I didn’t want to live with him. With no place to live, I would end up in a state halfway house or some other type of group home. For someone who was about to turn sixteen, this was a lot to deal with. The last two hours of my bus ride, which were supposed to be the happiest part of the trip, turned into the worst. The tension in my heart was almost unbearable now. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and was clinching my heart in an angry fist. My eyes teared up from the
On the day my father died, I remember walking home from school with my cousin on a November fall day, feeling the falling leaves dropping off the trees, hitting my cold bare face. Walking into the house, I could feel the tension and knew that something had happened by the look on my grandmother’s face. As I started to head to the refrigerator, my mother told me to come, and she said that we were going to take a trip to the hospital.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
...along the way. I may have blocked out a lot of my childhood, but that is ok. I must not be ready to remember it yet; maybe someday I will. Who is to say? I just try really hard to make sure the memories I make now are lasting ones that are worth remembering.
Some memories are best forgotten, but it takes courage to go through them. Often, I wish to forget the day when I almost lost my parents in a tragic car accident. As my world came crumbling down, I prayed and hoped that the nightmare would soon end. I endlessly fought the sense of helplessness, isolation and fear of the uncertainty. I was 19 and clueless. Nevertheless, I sailed through these dreadful days and welcomed my parents home after six long months. In the months that followed my parent’s return, I juggled between taking care of my parents, graduating college and adjusting to my new job. Almost 10 years later, this dark phase still has a phenomenal impact on me. Perhaps, because this specific experience transformed me into a grateful,
After half an hour of waiting for someone to call and my sister and dad to come home also thinking about what to do. I gave up and went to take a shower. When I came out, my bed was made and my mom called me down for breakfast, which I didn’t feel like having. I just drank a glass of orange juice. My mother went to the porch to sit. After a few seconds I decided to join her. Since I had nothing better to do at that moment, I asked her where my sister and dad had gone. All she said was “I don’t know”. I gu...