Beautiful memories are the most beautiful thing in the world. They are around us every time we want to go back in the past and relive an event. They can be good and happy, but there are also the ones we unwillingly remember. I often drift into the memories of my childhood, the period of my life when everything was colourful, and all the children were innocent.
Most of the memories from my childhood are good ones and that is why I love looking back on them. Some of them are related to a place where my brother and I would stay during the summer. That place is at my grandmother’s house, which is surrounded with lots of walnut trees. I remember that we didn’t like those trees because of their tempting hard shells. Every time we would try to peel the green skin and crust off to get to the dry brown fruit inside the hard shell, our hands would stay yellow and we could not get rid of the strong smell for days. A lot of different scents from my grandmother’s garden could be smelt in the backyard. I would often sit on the bench under the cherry-tree and imagine that I was a flower, coloured in the most beautiful colours and with the best scent among all other flowers. Everyone would admire that flower and it would never wither away.
Another interesting memory of grandma’s house was that whenever I walked into the house, I was greeted with amazing scents of grandma’s cooking and meals, which she made just for us. For example, I still remember the taste of her famous cherry-pie which she made better than any other bakery in the city.
In the corner of the living room, there was the grandma’s sewing machine. Even though my brother and I didn’t know what the machine was really used for back then, we could always find the way what to do with it while we played together indoors. It was a secret, magical place for us.
We would sleep in a small room, next to the grandma’s large bedroom. I always felt safe and warm in there because I knew my mom grew up there. Soft covers, the smell of the flowers coming through the open window and an ancient and antique small night lamp gave my uncorrupted soul piece and soon I would fall asleep and just drift off. In the morning, we would be woken up by thin rays of sunshine and a gentle breeze. The dream that we dreamt would be gone as soon as we thought about the breakfast that was waiting for us in the kitchen.