EPILOGUE
Write Your Story
Can you remember what it was like to be eight years old? Really remember? Chances are you can’t. I’m sure you can look at eight-year-olds and see the things they’re doing and remember some events of your life. But it’s hard to truly project yourself back into the thoughts and feelings you had at that age.
I was thinking about that not long ago when I stumbled on diaries I kept as a kid (at the insistence of my mother, who said I’d want to see them in the future). I read about scores of kickball games at school, a description of a new mechanical pencil I got, and a visit to the Franklin Institute, in Philadelphia (where, apparently, I got a souvenir coin I liked so much that I traced it into my diary). Many of these details ...
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