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Why is it, sometimes even under horrid conditions, we look back at our childhood with nostalgia?
Could it be because we had no real cares or woes to worry about?
Part of my childhood was living in the country. On a warm clear evening I would walk down the road (the thoughts of child molesters or vampires never crossed my mind) and look at the night sky and see the moon and the Milky Way with wonderment. And then came the teen-age years.
Could it be because we had no real cares or woes to worry about?
Part of my childhood was living in the country. On a warm clear evening I would walk down the road (the thoughts of child molesters or vampires never crossed my mind) and look at the night sky and see the moon and the Milky Way with wonderment. And then came the teen-age years.