Childhood Memoir

A Story by LeLe

Written this for my english class senior year and just wanted to see if its really good.

Growing up on Cavalier Rd with my nuclear family, with two loving parents and one older brother. When I was four or five years of age, I was a happy yet shy quiet child, still am today. When I was younger there was no such thing staying in the house all day, unless it was raining or any change in the weather. I was so energetic and playful I made a lot of friends that was next door to me, and from across. We always get into all sorts of adventures and made a lot of promises that we'll be together forever. We play ames like Cops 'n' Robbers, tag, hide-and-go-seek, and catch. My neighbors and I bonded so much until the years haven't been so good as we got older. But, I had a memorable childhood playing with them when I reminisce.

I remember the little corner store close to my house. My dad wold take my brother and I to the store for some junk food. My brother would get potato chips and coke-cola and I would get 25 cent candy, potato chips, and chips. I was a greedy little girl. My father would take us before dinner time or without my mama knowing. When I'm craving something sweet and the ordinary sweets like cookies in my house won't due, all I do is go to my dad and ask, because I'm his spoiled little girl. I usually say, " Daddy can we go the candy store?" and he'll take me.

Every Sunday and Tuesday my mama would take my brother and I to church. My church is called St. Paul close to two rival schools named Ribault and Raines. At church I used to sing in the children choir, I would sing my heart out in church and pleasing God, I enjoyed singing in the choir but the best part about singing in front of a crowd and knowing that I'm a introvert, I wasn't shy at all. My brother was in the youth ministry and my mama was training to become a license minister. My family is deeply rooted into St. Paul. My cousin was preacher in the in the 60s. My pastor John Guns also became a bishop was well known in my city, he was friends with pastors nationally and locally, and good friends with a few gospel singers. I remember a talent show in October where children sing, dance, mime, or do spoken word in front of their parents and other relatives. Me on the other hand I would always sing solo and I never like singing with other people for some reason. But when I sing a lot of people get surprised to see an introverted young girl singing. My father never went to church, but only on special occasions and I'm not saying Christmas and Easter just only something special happened to my brother and I. My father believe in Jesus and to afraid to show it. My mama would force my dad to come to church whited caused conflict.

For some reason in my head my whole neighborhood respected my father and they knew not to mess with him or his family. My father was well respected and loved by my neighborhood and he loved to help his neighbors with anything, like cutting the yards or fix their car.

I only remember little when I was younger only the good times, but definitely remember the bad, as grew older I don't live in my neighborhood any more, my parents divorced, stopped going to church every Sunday and Tuesday but only show up sometimes. My father still live there but not me in it, but soon. My mother became a reverend and my brother got his own thing going on. I, on the verge of graduating next month and going to college in the fall. I grew up okay I had relatively nice things and friends and I had a real good childhood.

© 2016 LeLe

Author's Note

just wanna know if its good or anything i can change, like grammar.

My Review

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Reviews

LastMonth

Hi there.
First up, I'd recommend a few spaces between paragraphs. It does wonders to any piece.

Secondly,
You ask if this is good,
But it really depends on what you're trying to get out of this.
It is well written, but there's something missing here. This is either the begining or the end, or this is just a nonchalant depiction of your childhood..?

Either way, good luck and welcome to Writerscafe.