The magic of childhood

I look at my children and if I see them not enjoying as much outdoor games, friends, grass gas, and also magical mundane things that surround us. And though my heart tighten ... I'd like to know as free and happy as I was when I was a child. What is the cause, you can do something their parents did? Perhaps a good beginning would be to remember the magic of their childhood.

A garden that was just us kids

I do not know why, but May reminds me most of his childhood. Perhaps because where I grew up, in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts blocks had around landscaped gardens and maintained their tenants, who were watered twice a day for grandparents - gardeners, it was full of rose bushes. Roses those big, fragrant, blooming in early summer. Roses that we, girls, tore them from their petals to cook food for dolls, most often or put wreaths on their heads, although they prefer to soft dandelion flowers yet more and more like yellow gold, about which is known to be "must have" for a crown of queen.

In fact, if you were to take one picture with me from childhood, it would be a garden; a garden behind the building where I lived with my family, with plenty of grass, butterflies, with shady spots where not put your "house", "camp" or "hideout" with ringdoves that break the silence, the chirping sparrows bushes, rustling of dry leaves with heat and grandmother shout on our kitchen window it's meal time or the sun burns too hard and it's time to go home. A garden that was just us children, a place where the greatest fear was tied back apartment building dog or cars driving past "whirlwind" in the alleys between buildings.

Blankets and elastic, our magical toys

Back when my grandfather still wet morning and evening hydrangeas and grandmother monstrous sneezing, frightening the sparrows on the kitchen sill warmers for lunch, most beautiful toys we had were, in order of importance: blankets - that you sat " house ", a spoonful brought from home, a strainer - suitable for making" finely ground ", one of the "cook" pies for dolls, caps preparing various dishes, elastic and chalk, for when we tired of so many Playing "the mother and father"; a kind of "girl's night out", but at noon and in the shade.

Older girls were kind of fairy protecting us, dwarfs girl

The garden behind the building was connected by small footpaths, often marked with white chalk, colored chalk exceptionally, the most beautiful, and also magical place on earth: the park! The park learn various formulas in different languages ​​with which one could push it so as not to be the one who "put" by "hide-and-seek". Or, really lucky today, a bigger girl, perhaps one that was already in school, get yourself under her protection. That was a kind of internship. Then you have the opportunity to improve your figures from elastic or string, to learn how to hide it better or you were lying that appear when someone "tag" you, when in fact you were much the "coco", so that would have been impossible for this to happen. Then show her protector, which magically light and split was right. It then turned on the bank that was with other girls school, where sifting through large notebooks with pictures, laughing and that you were dreaming even peek, far ...

In my world, I had two such "good fairies" Donna and Linnea. Donna was his sister Caroll, both already went to school, like Linnea. If Donna was gentle and good, like a mother less, Linnea was exactly that an older sister: fierce and tough, but that you protect yourself and learn all sorts of things. Linnea was not even my grandparents favorite, because sometimes have lice and sores on the body or an alcoholic parent, details that did not matter to us at all and we prevented a court assiduously to play with us on the blanket. Because Linnea was a kind of family head home from hers already had enviable dexterity in preparing soups leaves or sweeping "living room" with sheaf of grass, things that we, the small ones, we look with envy .

Parks must remain magical place for children, not for parents

I would have liked my children to share the same games and friends, the same dose of magic, without dry activities organized by adults, free workshops, with animators hourly pay, no play assisted. I wanted to know them as free as I feel in childhood. But I find it increasingly difficult to pull them out of the house. And when they do, like get tired too quickly, as if bored too soon, though increasingly have to protect the mothers, do not know why, invaded playgrounds: the sandbox are at the bottom of the chute, under the poor child put the tree climb, shy. Parks are now overseen by zealous guards, but not so vigilant and daddies and mommies ready any minute to apply karate-parenting technique. Parks became adult arena rather than the place where children discover world, relationships and themselves. So for a while we prefer to leave the woods and fields around the town, few places where children still allowed to groom and to believe in magic.

The magic of childhood is like a soap bubble, if you blow into it ...... .. fly.

photo credit: google.com

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