This is the first page of my journal. I began writing in it in second grade, during the 1984-85 holiday break.
Going to Medina Public Square always felt like a special trip, especially during the holidays. All the businesses in the Square decorated the Victorian-styled buildings with holiday lights, red bows, garlands, and festive wreaths. I was very excited about my newly acquired, kid-sized journal, and started writing in it right away during my second grade holiday break to record all of the important details of the upcoming year, 1985.
However, the journal mysteriously begins at the end of third grade.
I have always been very shy, and I was afraid that my brother, or a guest staying in my room, would discover my journal and read it. I remember solemnly warning my dad’s childhood friend, Skip, who stayed in my room when he was visiting, “Please don’t read my journal.” He laughed in a “don’t kids say the cutest things” sort of way, and reassured me he would never dream of reading it.
I was still unconvinced that Skip, my brother, or any passerby visiting my room would pass up the chance to open my journal and read my inner most thoughts, musings, and secret, private poetry.
