Childhood Memory

            Something that is significant to me from my childhood, that I can associate many memories with, is my blanky. It is light pink with tiny, deep pink roses scattered all over it. When I was a child I used to think that two things in my life could protect me from anything, my daddy and my blanky. My blanky protected me at night from the dark shadows irking in my room and all the scary monsters. When I annoyed my sisters or cousins to the point where they would be chasing me around the house so that they could hurt me, I’d run and hide somewhere under my blanky, thinking that as long as I was under it nothing could hurt me. I’d stay under my blanky until I was sure that I was safe and then I would run to my mom and tell on them like the little tattle tale that I was. I slept with it every night until I was 15, maybe not necessary cuddling it, but it was ALWAYS at least on the bed. I stopped keeping it out because the summer after I turned 15 I was afraid to bring this treasured possession with me because the year before, my bunkmates tormented my blanky. One time they even stole it while I was napping and hung it on the flag pole. I searched for it for hours and I didn’t notice it was stuck up there until 6:30 at night when all of girls camp gathered around the flag pole to lower the flag. I lowered the flag as quickly as I could and grabbed my blanky and ran back into my bunk and locked it in a trunk for the rest of the summer. I didn’t think that my blanky would survive another summer, and in the end it let me get used to living without it. I associate comfort with my blanky and possibly even safety in my whimsical little childhood. I feel like my blanky kept me from experiencing any badness as a child.