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Little Friends
My childhood was such a magical time. My memory takes me back
so many years ago. I had a little friend, my best buddie,
we played together all the time.
We walked the dusty country roads, hand in hand.
One day my little friend showed me a gift from her sister.
She said, "this is a souvenir." She had a special place
on her dresser for this object.
At that time I did to know the word souvenir. I only know she
treated this object almost as it was sacred.
I remember thinking to myself, "I wish I had a souvenir," and
I wondered if ever I would own such a treasure.
Now, I realize the best souvenir I could ever have is those
wonderful childhood memories.
Maybe one day my friend and I will hold hands and walk another
dusty road --- and remember WHEN.
poem
by
Bertha Gonzalez
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