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Happy Childhood

I heard how my neighbor scolded a four-year-old son. The boy built a house from the sticks and the ground. of course, the deal not from the cleanest ones, so the hands, pants, and face were dirty.

– What nonsense are you doing here ?! Look, you look like a piglet!

– But, dad, here’s our hut, we’ll be able to live here…

– Come on! Here’s a bunch of dirt and twigs! Can’t you play normally, do you need to get dirty?! Get out of there, what is with you bad, boy? I Go home and immediately wash your hands and face!

The boy lastly looked at his work and lowered his head following his father.Sad if he thought, “Dad didn’t understand anything again.”  But even more sadly, if he questioned, “Or maybe my hut is just a mud?”

………………………..I was a happy child. My buildings from twigs, sand, and ground were palaces for me and my father. My first gouache paintings were Leonardo DaVinci’s canvas. And no one scolded me for the dirty clothes. My dreams, my creations were more important.

………………………If our children build a fairy-tale castle from dirty stones, if their paper boats travel through the oceans of the world, they will sail with real sails one day. And take us where we never dare.…………………………..

© Fortune, 2009

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Written by Fortune

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  1. Though I didn’t have all these crazy and creative moments, I still think I have a happy childhood. But I would like to give my children more freedom to build the dreams they want. Sometimes we just have to let the kids do crazy stuff even though it messes up our home. 😀

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