My childhood was a time of innocence and clumsiness. It was a time of discovery and learning where anything seemed possible and when the troubles of the world would matter not. Many say that it’s our teen years that have formed us, but I say it was our childhood. Growing up in a beautiful and small village; where every child was spoiled and nurtured with the riches of the world. Drivers, gates and house a cleaner all at your service, life was hard to learn from. I’ll never forget the giant rock in the center of the village, it was a place of meditation for all of my thoughts, and it was where all the children would meet up to trade the newest card game pieces, or even cause trouble. The rock itself was unique; it had many stories engraved upon it, stood tall and had a flat top where many people could fit. Every afternoon when the sun would begin to set I would sit upon the flat surface of the rock, feel the cool breeze hug me, and felt the warmth of the sun comfort me. I would sit there and watch the suns reflection upon the fields of orange glowing grass. At that very moment, I experience an epiphany of past events in my life which have made me realize how I became the humble person I am today.

One cool morning, when the clouds were covering the sun, I and a few of my friends sat together at the park. Soon felt our stomachs grumbling, we decided to go into a farmer’s property. At that very moment it didn’t matter if the farmer cared or not to us, after all we were just kids. So we hopped off the swings and ran off to grab a few vegetables or so, hoping things went as planned. As we rushed our way over to the farm, I felt a tickle on my cheek, then another, and soon I felt a droplet of water tickle its way down the soft pores of my cheek and eventually it began to rain harder and harder. The rain really did not matter to us; we just wanted our tummies full. We took the usual “secret” path into the farmer’s backyard. Then as soon as we reached our destination, we decided that we were going to go for the nearest fruit or vegetable, and it was clear that we were going to have to get baby corn and sour apples. The rains hurtful droplets tore at our eyes making things harder to see and challenging to run, but we quickly made our way towards the apple tree, not the largest one, but the most climbable one. We engorged our pockets with the sour goodness then silently made our way over to the corn field. As we were rushing towards the corn field, the farmer’s shepherd dog began to bark. We were so excited to accomplish our devious plans that we had completely forgotten that the farmer had a dog. Well there went our ingenious unthought-of plan. We dived into the closest bush and suddenly the farmer emanated out with an unpleasant face where anger leapt out from his face. I felt the pounding in my chest take control of me, my blood rushed into my head seeking a possible solution. Then it hit me, I signalled my friends to run for the tall grass on the count of three. I slowly raised my mud covered finger up. One, two, THREE! We ran as fast as we could as the farmer wasn’t looking and got ourselves into the cornfield. I felt that the ground was nice and moist, perfect to dig ourselves into. The dog continued to bark and the farmer followed the dogs trail. Panicked I started digging and digging as fast as I possibly could burrow myself into the mud. The farmer quickly approached the cornfields, I looked over to my friends who had caught onto the idea and kept burrowing themselves into the mud as well. Suddenly a loud grunt came out of the farmer. Slowly turning my head around, the farmer was standing in front of me. I slowly raised my hand and held onto my mouth, breathing so hard that I felt that he could hear my breathing. The cornfields made it hard to see him which made me barely visible; meaning that I would become invisible, or at least I thought so. The farmer didn’t notice us, and the rain began to let the mud sink us into the ground more, suddenly the farmer began to cuss under his breath, turned around and stomped his way back home. I looked back at the clay figures which my friends had turned into, and signalled to run back when the farmer was gone. I whispered to my friend who quickly raised his head to scout ahead, confirmed the farmer’s absence. Holding dear to whatever fruit or vegetable we had with us, we ran back through the “Secret” path and made it to the park.