When you are big you will not remember
The time when it rained for eleven straight days
And you sat in the house wishing you could play tee ball
Or Frisbee or fly kites or pick some bouquets.

You will remember the day when the rain stopped
And Mom took you out for a walk with your friends.
Then she (just that once!) let you jump in the puddles
And float little boats to the place your street ends.

When you are big you will not remember
The time when your friend broke your favorite crayon
Or the day that she called you a feather-brained ninny
And stomped on the castle you made out of sand.

You will remember the times you played dress-up
And then did a play for the whole neighborhood
Or the time that she helped you clean one great big mess up
And came to bring soup when you didn’t feel good.

When you are big you will not remember
The robot-shaped candy you wanted so bad
That you laid down and screamed on the floor of the market
And then were sent up to your room by your dad.

You will remember your free time with family
And spending whole days doing fun things together
Like building a tree fort or playing badminton
Or having a picnic in beautiful weather.

When you are big you will not remember
Unwrapping your gifts on the day you turned seven
And finding, instead of the puppy you wanted,
That you got some clothes and a hamster named Evan.

You will remember that neat cake your Mom made –
It looked like a chimp with a hat and banana –
And how Dad was blowing balloons up all morning
And Aunt Lulu came all the way from Montana.

When you are big you will not remember
The times you spent staring at big TV screens
Watching cartoons and shows about kids with weird hairdos
And ads for toy airplanes and fast food and jeans.

You will remember the bright days of summer.
You climbed trees so high that you thought you’d touch heaven
And had some magnificent backyard adventures
With rope and a map and your best sidekick – Evan.

When you are big, you will not recall
Your dream about monsters so hungry and tall
That they ate up the moon and they swallowed the stars
And then came to your house to eat all your toy cars!

You will remember how after that scare
You were twirling your fingers in your mother’s hair
As she showed you how everything still was all right–
That the moon still shone bright as she held you so tight.

When you are big you will not remember
The times you were mad about castles and crayons
Or the times you were sad about rainstorms and robots
Or upset by puppies or playthings or plans.

For memories are made up of moments and people
And kindness and caring and fun, most of all.
When you are big, you’ll remember the good times
And people who loved you when you were small