“I think one of the strengths of nostalgia is that even if they have not had a good childhood, most people have at least one nostalgic memory that they cherish and that they can use repeatedly. Someone once asked me: ‘How long do these effects last?’ My 11-year-old daughter said: ‘They last your entire life!’ She’s right, too. Once positive memories are instantiated, they might have only represented half an hour of your entire childhood, but you can dwell on them and return to them forever.”–Dr. Tim Wildschut and Constantine Sedikides, Department of Social Sciences & Psychology. Article: ‘Looking back in joy: the power of nostalgia.’
Ms. Wright, 7th Grade, Group One
I could touch all the toys I wanted, and I tasted oatmeal again. I could see class on computer and I smell my bed. I could hear my bed creeping
I remember when I was 12, I would go outside and see the clear blue sky as I lay down on the grass, feeling the soft grass. I would hear the blaring cars and the rumble of the trains as I walked. Sometimes, I would run to the store without my parents knowing and buy all the candy I want, feasting on the sweet candy secretly. When I would get home after school, I could smell my mother’s cooking from outside.
I am older now,
yet I find myself
reminiscing over the past.
Such as twelve.
Which was only last year.
I am thirteen now,
who won’t let go of the past.
But there was a time.
I remember when I was twelve,
I remember my old blanket that
covered me whole.
The blanket I have once grown tired of,
finding better to lay on my bed.
When I was twelve,
I can still remember the taste
of the cereal that my school provided.
It lingers on my tongue every now and then,
a small reminder perhaps.
I don’t eat breakfast as much now,
but there was a time for sure.
I remember the brightness of my phone screen,
hitting my eyes at night.
All at twelve,
while I looked at a screen for days.
It was nice,
being able to have something for myself.
The device bringing me joy for my little self.
Yet, I never got off.
I still use my phone,
way more often that I should.
.. Which affected my life too.
When I was twelve,
My house smelt nostalgic.
I couldn’t put a finger on it,
but it felt like a true home.
It’s silly to say such,
but it’s meaningful in a way.
My house and room bringing comfort,
that no other does.
I still remember the yelling
from my parents downstairs,
still vivid in my head.
Yet, as I grow,
that image dims.
The arguments over small things,
now left quiet today.
I’m fine with it.
Quiet is what I prefer now,
compared to when I was twelve.
I still grow now,
becoming one anew,
greater than a sensitive child.
After all, I was only twelve.
Ms. Wright, 7th Grade, Group Two
When I was 10, I picked up my iPad and played games on it. I tasted my mom’s spaghetti. I saw the view from high up on a mountain. I smelled many flowers on the hike up the mountain. I heard notifications whenever somebody texted me.
When I was 6 I played with my soft fuzzy plushies.
When I was 6, I could taste my grandma’s cooking.
When I was 6, I saw my older sister’s friends coming over to have fun.
When I was 6 I could smell minty chinese medicine applied on my bruises.
When I was 6, I could hear my friends screaming on the playground.
When I was 6, I felt the rough bumps and holes of my walls, and the taste of my Mom’s tomato and egg rice filled my mouth. I saw the lush, vibrant plants in my grandparents’ garden. The bright green filled me with wonder and curiosity.
When I was 6, the strong smells of chicken broth and herbs of my Mom’s soup filled my nose. The bubbling noise made me observe the glistening reflection of the hot soup. The opening theme of Wild Kratts played on TV. I ran to watch the show full of imagination and adventure that always caught my attention.
When I was 6, I could hear people calling my name, saying I won a raffle. After school, I watched the T.V. play the flashing colors of the T.V. of Curious George. When I was 6, I could hear Party in the U.S. playing on July 4th, and the smell of the air right before the rainstorm. I could taste the scorching hot, freshly made rice for dinner.
When I was 6, I finally started to become curious.
When I was 6, I played with my warm feeling Hot Wheels.
I remember throwing them around, making sounds, and crying when it was time to stop.
When I was 6, I could taste the juicy chicken tender.
I remembered the crunch and the meat filling taste.
I always cried for more, and more, and more.
When I was 6, I saw the PJ Masks on TV.
The actions and the colors amused me with great memories.
When I was 6, I could smell the fresh, newly cleaned bed sheets when coming home.
It had great freshness and made me want to sleep already.
When I was 6, I could hear the early birds chirping when I walked outside.
The sound smoothed me in the morning and reminded me of the great world.
Until I actually woke up, you’re grown and 13 now.
Enjoy the memories, and appreciate your childhood.
When I was 7, I experienced the moment. When I was 7, I felt the smooth edges of my colorful Lego bricks, and I built a very cool-looking tiny house. When I was 7, I savored the scrumptious fried noodles that my dad made. When I was 7, I saw the very humorous cartoon show, Guang Tou Qiang, and I liked the yellow bear. When I was 7, I smelled the aroma of my dad’s crunchy Chinese pan-fried beef buns. When I was 7, I listened to harmonious music from Zombies 1. This was a fun period of adventures.
When I was 13, I played on my computer
I tasted the competition
I saw the character closing in on the finish line
I smelled victory
I heard the cheers after I won