remembering...

My childhood is not dotted with endless trips to Disneyland. I got my first Barbie doll at the age of 13 not 3 and my first cell phone at 17. It was a Sony Ericsson. Made me go crazy sometimes. I discovered the Internet when I was not old enough to explore it, but I did. My first ID was: me_sweety...I didn't even know how to spell it. I've never had a pet. Not even a family car of our own. No, my childhood is not like the one in our days.
But what I had, nobody can take from me. The memories of the way to church in that little car with the steering wheel on the right, are unforgettable. I remember the days my mom was gathering us in on the sofa and read to us from the Bible. I was not raised with a Christmas tree, nor with the fairy tales about Santa. But I was raised with a story about Baby Jesus being born in a poor manger having no food and no heat, just the breath of the animals inside it. I was taught many poems and verses and christian songs. I didn't play FarmVille, but I had my own little farm. Even if that was composed from my dear old Molda and a few callow hens.I remember the hot sunny days of summer when we were having water-fights and those long family barbeques which we had until the sun was going down. We were wondering at the stars, trying to write names with them.I remember all the happy moments with my family, like it was yesterday. I lived dreaming about a country house, near city, which today I have. It doesn't have that big old fireplace, nor the big wooden stairs. But the worm smile of my mom and a proper hug from my dad, makes me feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be. Home...