孤單。我希望能有人陪我玩。
突然，我看到了我要的人——我的祖父，他下班回來了。“爺爺！”我歡快地喊著，“快來推我一把！”
他的臉突然間變得煞白，我從沒見過他那種表情，“你不該出來玩。”他粗聲地對我說，好像我做了不該做的事。
“但是，”我想告訴他我只是做了大人告訴我的事情而已。“快下雨了。”他突然說。我抬頭困惑地看著晴朗的藍天，一點兒雲彩也沒有。
“跟我走！”他的聲音中透著一絲絕望。
當我們一起上樓梯時，他抓著我的手，緊緊地抓著，好像需要什麼東西支撐似的。我似乎被某種預兆緊緊地抓著。後來，我才意識到，那一刻，代表了我童年的終結。
What were you like as a child？ Serious； responsible？ Happy…go…lucky？ Sweet…natured？ Hyperactive？ A playground bully？ Or a timid creature clinging to your mother’s skirt？
I spent my childhood as a fly on the wall： looking； listening； taking in impressions of the world around me。 Some were awesome； reassuring： warmth and kindness； glimpses of pure joy； others worrying； confounding： falsehood and pretensions； spite； aggression and scorn。
Uncertain what to make of it all； I kept my observations and reflections strictly to myself。
Today I’m still the same fly on the wall； though somewhat less bemused； having taken on board some vital lessons of sympathy and passion； tolerance and forgiveness。
Also； over the years I have acquired enough confidence to articulate my thoughts and； at length； summoned the courage to share them this way。
We’re tempted to change as we grow older； in response to adult pressures： roles we are expected to perform； personally； professionally； standards set by our contemporaries； not forgetting the natural urge to develop and mature。
But our basic disposition remains the same。 And rather than distance ourselves from what we were as children； we should take good care of our original equipment。
As long as it’s put to good use； there will always be room for it in the adult world。
Early memories can be deceptive； in that they are usually quite appealing。 As if； in the whole range of emotions experie