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PARENTING
My Grandmother’s Casa de Bambini
The Magic of a Montessori Home
One of my happiest childhood memories is from my grandmother’s home on the southern island of the Philippines. Picture this: 24 cousins, 5 mothers, and two glorious months spent in one enormous house. It was a flurry of activity, with kids of all ages running wild under one roof.
That house was like something out of a fairy tale — old and mysterious, with its share of creepy lizards and shadows that surely hid ghosts. But we loved it. Even though our mothers were likely somewhere nearby, we didn’t feel their constant presence. Most of the time, they were chatting among themselves while we explored every nook and cranny.
We rummaged through old cupboards and dusty closets, turning everyday objects into treasures. The living room was our creative hub, where we transformed blankets into forts and castles. The diamond-patterned parquet floor? Perfect for line tag or marking the perimeter of our makeshift stage. After raiding our grandmother’s trunks for costumes, we put on plays with the silliest skits, choreographed dances, and practiced for town competitions, voices loud and proud.
What Made My Grandmother’s House So Magical?
Here are three reasons:
