Are We destined To Write?

The sorting off the top room has extended to the sorting of the whole house. I never realised we had so much rubbish in the top room, we have so far been sorting for five days now and we are still no where near finished.

Although the sorting has produced a few surprises!

I always thought that I knew what was in my house, but it is amazing how quickly you forget about things. I was sorting out Baba’s clothes that no longer fit him and I found a few outfits that had never been worn which have now been passed onto our little niece, as they were little cream outfits.

I found all of Mr L’s old school reports, although he did not keep many! He did however keep his football photos and his sports certificates. It is amazing how different the things that we have kept from our school years. He has hardly anything and I think that I have kept nearly everything.

I have found items from my primary, secondary and grammar school. There are photos, letters from friends, work books, certificates and all of my work throughout the years. I have kept my revision notes from my GCSE’s as well as my A-Levels and have kept all of my practice exams for most of my exams. I don’t know why I have kept all these things, but I still don’t want to part with them not yet. I haven’t kept every subject, just English, Psychology and my Art stuff but that is still enough stuff to keep.

However the most interesting thing I found today was a piece that I had written when I was at primary school. I was so proud of this piece of writing that I thought that I would put it down here.

BABIES

Clambering up the stairs. Falls down, try once more.

“Come on, come on you can’t give up now”

Half way there. Fall down three steps. Mum’s here, no don’t let her help. Do it yourself, get up them stairs.

A frustrated look on your face, don’t give up. Keep on trying. Legs fighting, legs clambering over the steps.

Over three quarters now. Nearly at the top. Mumbling words. Mum’s looking, don’t look down, you’ll fall with fear. Keep clambering, keep climbing.

One more step to go. Make this the best one. Over it. Look down.

Big big smile on your face.

Mum’s delighted, she claps.

Weird noises, he’s pleased.

I wrote this when I was 10 years 4 months and we had to write a descriptive piece of writing.

Maybe I was always destined to write, and have just always put it to one side to do other things. Do you always think you were destined to write? Is it in us from birth?