My Childhood In A Thousand Picture Words
It’s hard to believe that I was ever this innocent. Did my eyes really observe the world with immense curiosity? Who are all these tall people! Why are they all smiling down on me? I can’t be that funny! Maybe it’s my big eyes; they always attract unnecessary attention.
At six years old I was a very lonely child. Always singing, playing rough and covered in African dust without a care in the world what the world thinks of me. Often I was mistaken as a boy because my head was cleanly shaved most of the time. I did all my homework, all my teachers liked me.They gave stars on my books. Sang me praises. Even then I still wondered… What’s so special about me?
I can sing. I can really sing! I leaped for joy. When I was 9 our musical teacher Mr.Paulos made me the choir leader. My voice was the beginning, the guider, and end of every song. Singing solo. Leading alone. What a very awesome yet lonely place! My friends disowned me out of jealously. Still I enjoyed the lunch which my dad prepared for me very morning in solitude. My older sister, my best friend, moved out. The silence was even louder.
Where can a quiet child find her voice?
She was still there. Inside her thoughts where she was the only child in Disney land, exploring the beauty of the world alone. If only she’d write it down on paper. Draw an audio picture; let someone in. And so at 11 her humming came with a bird that carried the words of her 1st song. It was a thrill. The song sucked! But who cared, she found her voice.
From then on, her wings flew open and she floated on air. In a space of two years she moved from being a introvert, the girl without a voice, to an extrovert. A voice of the world.
