Memories.

Memories. We usually remember our most important moments, shocking or weird events. But where do our memories start?

Although I don’t have many fond memories of my childhood years I can tell you about my first memory. You can believe me or not, but I know my memory serves me very well as there’s something like a photograph in my head of that day.

                                      

I remember when I was three and I went to kindergarden with my mum. I can clearly remember that moment, but don’t ask me about what I ate yesterday. Well, we were in a room with plenty of toys; it had to be a good sign so I was so calm. Every single child was crying, but I was just looking at them, paying all my attention to their faces. I still love to examine every single thing. There was an old lady talking to other children’s mothers. I could not hear her, as I was too busy analyzing her clothes. She was dressed immaculately in white, and she was wearing some strange bonnet. I was so confused; I had never seen something like that. Some years later I would be able to understand that she was a nun. Anyway, she was wearing big old-fashioned glasses -even if I was a little baby I was qualified to know which stuff was outmoded or not - I already said I am a sharp-eyed person. And I still remember a little boy who wasn’t that little and was crying a lot. I did not know his reasons to cry that loud; we were surrounded by toys and cushions so we couldn’t ask for anything else. An enormous woman was holding his hand. I was absolutely intimidated. I kept looking at her for a while. She was definitely like a she-bear. So I think that’s why bears bring me back childhood memories.