I am posting a short snapshot/image of a memory I have from when I was little. This is an excerpt of a journal that I wrote for my English class. The journal prompt was "write about the history of your hair," which was quite the perfect prompt for a girl with curly hair.
I am bundled up in
a lilac coat on a tractor ride in autumn. My hair is rolled in tight,
spring-like, youthful locks in such juxtaposition around my small five-year-old
face. There is a glow in my eyes that reflects the state of my hair, tangled
and excited, from the past event of walking aimlessly through a cornstalk maze
and from my future plan to pick the perfect round pumpkin. I’ve never been to a
pumpkin patch before and when I see it, it looks like a picture. There are so
many pumpkins- orange, cream, yellow, round, oval, and misshapen. After hopping
out of the wagon and brushing the golden strands of hay off of my blue
overalls, I walk around with my other wide-eyed friends in search of an
eligible gourd. I choose the pumpkin that is the most round with the greenest
stem; a stem that is sturdy so that I can hold it in my kindergarten hands that
are only good for painting and playing with toy dinosaurs. After choosing it, I
brush the light dirt off of the pumpkin’s sides and it is mine. I hold it
tightly against my coat and my mom lifts me back into the tractor where my
friends and I giggle and compare our new treasures.
Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day!
- Emily F.
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