I wanted to focus upon the day that I realized that Santa Claus did not exist. Like any other kid on the block, I believed that a guy with a beard broke into my house with a knapsack of all the presents I ever wanted for that year and didn't make one sound while placing said presents around our 7 foot tree.
Even if Santa rounded my family up and tied us up underneath the multi-sparkling Christmas tree, I wouldn't have minded as long as he had my Polly Pocket house set all wrapped up with a pink bow.
I used to have these dreams about going to the North Pole, getting a job as a toy maker and work side by side with Santa Claus himself. I can imagine making (or not-so-making) toys and maybe get a cut from Santa. Like every 10 toys I made, I get 2. Or something. Hey! I deserved it - I was a super, super duper good girl that year, you know. Or you don't - in which you, well, don't. Just take my word for it.
I want this memoir to be a picker-upper than the personal essay I wrote, so I decided to focus upon something lighter from my childhood.
1 comment:
Nadia I apologize for not posting comments on your blog earlier. Your blog is so visually creative and you always have that one thing to say that I haven't thought of. Thanks for your good work//
I agree with Lynne - you are definitely a very talented writer.
I think your personal essay is very powerful, and the direction your personal memoir took was also serious and important. At the same time, as you mention in this blog, it might be OK to write about something a little less pressing. Just something easy.
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