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Description
When I was a little girl, I climbed into my mother's lap and looked in the mirror on her dressing-table. I asked her "What will I be when I'm older, momma?
"Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Will I still have all my toys?"
And she answered "Wait and see, my love."
Well I can tell you now that I have waited. The years have passed. I have grown taller. My bones have grown solid and my muscles are strong. My mind is sharp and my skills are many.

And yet somewhere in the back of my head is that little girl who used to lock herself away in her room because stories were more interesting than people. Who cried at her cat's funeral. Who never saw her grandfather laid to rest. Who watched over her brother when he was ravaged with chicken pox. Who never ever had a close friend.

The past follows us no matter how much we try to escape from it. Those children we were are still there if we look in the back of the closet we stuffed them in. In between all the worries, anxieties, stresses and troubles of life, they are still there, waiting to be told "You can come out now."

Letting them out won't cause any damage. They are as old as you, and they know everything you have learned. But it's no fun being stuffed away with long-forgotten memories - children get easily frightened and some of those old thoughts are the scariest ones.

Description
When I was a little girl, I climbed into my mother's lap and looked in the mirror on her dressing-table. I asked her "What will I be when I'm older, momma?
"Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Will I still have all my toys?"
And she answered "Wait and see, my love."
Well I can tell you now that I have waited. The years have passed. I have grown taller. My bones have grown solid and my muscles are strong. My mind is sharp and my skills are many.

And yet somewhere in the back of my head is that little girl who used to lock herself away in her room because stories were more interesting than people. Who cried at her cat's funeral. Who never saw her grandfather laid to rest. Who watched over her brother when he was ravaged with chicken pox. Who never ever had a close friend.

The past follows us no matter how much we try to escape from it. Those children we were are still there if we look in the back of the closet we stuffed them in. In between all the worries, anxieties, stresses and troubles of life, they are still there, waiting to be told "You can come out now."

Letting them out won't cause any damage. They are as old as you, and they know everything you have learned. But it's no fun being stuffed away with long-forgotten memories - children get easily frightened and some of those old thoughts are the scariest ones.