YWP: What’s Your Earliest Memory?

Young Writers Project is an independent nonprofit that engages students to write, helps them improve and connects them with authentic audiences in newspapers, before live audiences and online. YWP also publishes an annual anthology and The Voice, a digital magazine with YWP’s best writing, images and features. More info: youngwritersproject.org or contact YWP at sreid@youngwritersproject.org or 802-324-9538.

This week, we present responses to the following challenges:

Memory. Psychologists tell us our earliest memories typically form between the ages of 3 and 4. What is your earliest memory, and how old were you? Are the details hazy, or do you see and feel it clearly? And general writing.

Prompt: Memory

Down the aisle

By Quinncy Beaudin

Age 15, Bradford

I only remember snippets of the day my uncle got married. I remember getting dressed in my little suit and spiking up my hair with gel in a back room. Then my aunt talked to me about how brave I was for doing this. I didn’t really know what I was about to do at this point that would make me “very brave,” but I just sat there and waited to be told what to do next.

I was a little scared and worried, as I wasn’t with my parents in the seats. But before I got the chance to ask anyone about why I wasn’t sitting with my parents, a strange lady handed me a pillow. I looked at the pillow and wondered why I was holding it – it looked like they wanted me to take a nap? But it seemed that the pillow would be a bit uncomfortable, since it had two rings tied to it.

Now at this point I thought, What a strange pillow. Before I could think any more about it, the lady who’d handed me the pillow told me to follow her. She opened the curtains to reveal a bunch of people sitting around a straight aisle. The aisle led to a big arch of flowers, with several men and women standing around it. The lady told me that I had to walk slowly down that aisle.

I still remember the feelings of paranoia and surprise flowing through my body after hearing what the lady had told me. I had to walk down what looked to be the longest and loneliest aisle on Earth, by myself. I was worried when they told me to get ready. They led me to the curtain, along with my cousin as the flower girl. I had to lead. I walked slow enough so that the flower girl could spread her flowers evenly throughout the floor down the aisle.

I was scared to the bone until I looked at my parents in the groups of people sitting in rows, smiling at me and commenting on my suit. My other uncle gripped my shoulder as I walked by him. My feelings turned from fear and embarrassment to happiness and thankfulness.

Once I finally made it to the end of the aisle and delivered the rings, I went to join my parents and grandparents. I will never forget that moment.

Holiday season

By Emi Vaughan

Age 16, East Thetford

My earliest memories undoubtedly developed during my two years at a small preschool I attended, Caring Community. There are a number of experiences from that time in my life that I am occasionally reminded of by something quite small, like when I hear about the character Big Bird from Sesame Street – I immediately think of the Big Bird bouncy toy my cousin and I often fought over. Or when I see Mott’s apple juice, I remember when my teacher let me pour juice into Dixie cups for all of my classmates (all by myself!)

While most of these recollections are vague, there is one very distinct memory I have from preschool that occurred during the Christmas season. My class had taken a walk outside, not far from our school building, to choose a Christmas tree for our classroom. Once we arrived to the fir trees, my classmates and I noticed that they were decorated with candy canes, beaded necklaces, small plastic lizards, and other small goodies, and of course – snow. Looking back now, those decorations seem quite random and odd, but as a child I was mesmerized. I specifically remember my fascination with the beautiful trees, and how elated I was to hear we could each remove a few goodies from the branches and take them home.

This was such a simple event, but it was what created my love for the holiday season. This was my earliest distinct memory of Christmastime, and that specific joy and excitement is still present years later during the month of December. I absolutely love the Christmas season, and not because of the gifts but because of the liveliness and spirit that come with it. Each of my early memories has been significant to me in similar ways, as they helped me develop my first connections to specific events, places, people, things, and situations.

I think that perhaps without this experience, I would still have found a love for the holiday season, but I am still grateful to have this memory and to have formed it at such an early age. It reminds me how important childhood is, and how it truly is the simplest things that please people the most.

Childhood memories

By Leah Wheeler

Age 15, West Newbury

I have many memories from my childhood:

memories of family Christmases,

memories of my brother being born,

memories that have no actual significance.

But I somehow still remember them.

One of my very first memories

is of me in my crib, standing up

and telling my pregnant mother something.

She was in her rocking chair, rocking quietly

and willing me to go to sleep.

Another memory of mine

is of when my parents took me

to a Sesame Street musical.

I was two years old,

and my mother was still pregnant with my brother.

Even though these memories are hazy,

I still remember them.

Before the play started,

my mother had put me

in a Sesame Street t-shirt in the bathroom.

I had long forgotten about that, until now.

I also remember going to a Christmas party

with my parents, grandmother, and great-grandmother.

I had gotten an Ice Queen doll,

which was similar to a Barbie

but not name-brand.

I didn’t care.

I’d gotten a new toy to play with!

I have a memory of my mother

pulling a dresser drawer out from my bureau.

It remained broken ever after.

Now that we’ve moved,

I’ll never see that bureau again.

And lastly, though I have many more memories besides,

there are several distinct memories of my old house…

so many memories of mine started there.

Sometimes, when I think of that house,

I miss it — that place where memories were made.

I will always love that house,

where my grandmother was brought up

and where I was raised too.

So many childhood memories.

Prompt: General

Still alive

By Emma Marsh

Age 13, Piermont

I dodged your bullets,

yet I’m still bleeding.

You broke my heart,

and I’m still breathing.

I’m still alive.

I can do it on my own.

You took back your heart,

the one you’d given me as a loan.

What good is loving you

if it’s only toxic?

I’ve tried to let go,

but it keeps coming back to this.

I’m still mourning, missing you,

and all of it comes without warning —

but the world doesn’t stop turning.