I used to believe…
January 12, 2012 | My Jottings
One of the decorating blogs I read occasionally had a fun post recently, and I liked it so much I thought I’d do a post like it here. Have you seen this website called I Used To Believe? It’s about the funny and bizarre things we used to believe as children.
Here are a few things I used to believe:
When I was a child, I believed that our bodies grew larger and taller because they literally filled up with food. I thought that if you ate something as a baby, that food would be deposited in your feet. And then all subsequent food eaten would slowly fill up the legs, the trunk, the arms and the rest of the body, and when all that accumulated food reached the top of the head and couldn’t find any more room, the body stretched and grew.
When I was a child I believed that the past tense for the word cost was costed. I think I said things like “that record costed $1.06” until I was close to 5th grade.
When I was a child I believed that when my oldest brother Larry would take me to the beach in his Corvette, if I sat up high on folded towels in the passenger seat next to him, people would think I was his girlfriend. Never mind that I was 8 and he was 23 — I was convinced that the folded towel trick would make me look like his date.
When I was a child I believed that most villains in the world looked like stooped, wizened old men carrying big burlap bags. The bags were to put kidnapped children in.
When I was a child I believed that if I swam out into the ocean as far as I could, way past the breaking waves and out into the deep water until I could barely see the people on the shore, that very point would be a mile. And during my growing up years in southern California, I did this every chance I got.
When I was a child I believed that babies came to families because the mommies and/or daddies prayed for them, and God graciously answered. When I was little my mother told me she prayed for a little girl and that God sent me. I loved that idea. I still do.
What did you used to believe when you were a child?
When I was a child, I first wanted to be like a hero on a white horse, coming to the rescue, I use to dream of living in the olden days of Knights or coyboys. I use to go to Granpa’s during the summer months and wish I could grow up having cows like him and an old bull that was friendly like his. I use to dream of being off in the countryside riding my horse where there was nothing but the earth around me and nature. I use dream being like my Grandpa, as he had the biggest influence on my life before being a teenager. I use to draem that I would have a tractor like he did.
I still dream but it has changed from Me to Him, Of doing His will in my life, dreaming of His glory and someday being able to see Him. There have been times when I am in a mindset of praise to Him that I just become over whelmed with Him like being in a dream. As I get older, some things seem more real than they did when I was a kid.
One last thing I have to comment on and that is going to the beach with my litter sister or doing something special with her. I knew back then that she wanted to pretend she was on a date with me, and I was soooooo blessed that she thought enough of her older brother that she actually would want to let me treat her as a little queen. She has always been beautiful of heart and sincere in mind. Now I am blessed with another young women that I have a date with (I try to make it often) and that women is my daughter Savannah. I just got back from having several daddy daughter dates and I even told her of those special trips to the beach with my little sister – way back when 🙂 Some day I will sit down with her and tell her more about things like that in my younger life. 🙂 Now that I am retired I have the time, but as her life is getting busier, it seems that now she does not have the time – – such is life sometimes. Both of those women, my sister and my daughter have blessed me beyond compare. 🙂
You were quite the dreamer Lar! Thank you…. xxoo
You know the carol “Good King Wenceslas”?
http://www.carols.org.uk/good_king_wenceslas.htm
It has a verse in it where the king has spotted an impoverished peasant out wooding in the snow, calls his page to him and asks who he is, then sets off to find him as the page knows him and can locate the peasant’s home. Good King W commands “Brings me flesh and bring me wine”, puts together a Christmas hamper, and off they go to find him.
Brought up on the unexpurgated bloodthirstiness of the Brothers Grimm, I had somehow got this all muddled up in my mind with Rapunzel and the lettuce-growing witch and various other scary fairytale characters, and formed the impression that Good King W was off to EAT the peasant braised in wine – the term “flesh” being familiar to me only from church as basically meaning “humanity”.
It interests me that my child’s mind, at sea amid a bewilderment of adults, saw no surprise or contradiction in singing, at church and on Christmas morning, a jolly carol about a “good” king intent upon catching and eating a peasant he’d caught thieving sticks from his hedge.
I loved knowing this about you, and it doesn’t surprise me one bit. The seeds of a writer were already sprouting. Did you ever see this movie? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9Bbr0Z2LvM
I was obsessed with it when I was little, used to listen to the sound track alone in my room all the time, pore over the picture book that went with it….
I believed that if you cut off that little “hangy thing” in the back of your throat and put it on the side of a glass it would crawl up the glass and fall in. I believed this because my father said so and what he said was always true. (I do look back and see he was never able to demonstrate this to me). I am proud now as a retired nurse practitioner to report that this “hangy thing” is called an uvula and it can not crawl up the side of a glass.
I am laughing out loud. I would have loved your dad, I know it. I do not want to add Uvulaphobia to my long list, so will be spending extra time in prayer today. LY.
Christy’s comment …Oh what a visual ! I so needed a good laugh! Who knew it would be over something so silly !! God knows just how to “tickle our funny bone” …. Thanks 4 the memories Julie. Just added WW of Brothers Grimm 2 my Netflix queue 🙂
I’m so glad you found it as funny as I did, Linda! I also have that movie in my queue but it says it’s unavailable right now – please let me know if you ever get it! Thinking of you today…..
When my brothers and I were young, we had season passes to the Saturday afternoon children’s matinee at our local movie theater. All summer long, we would watch movies every Saturday afternoon…giving my mother a couple of hours of peace, I’m sure.
We were pretty young to be left at a theater alone, and so my mother told us that the woman in the projection booth was a friend of hers. She was watching us and would report any misbehavior on our part to my mother. Oh…and she was a very, very mean woman as well. She may even spank us if our actions were especially bad.
To this day, I cannot remember a single movie I saw, but I do remember turning around several times during the showings trying to get a glimpse of the woman behind the bright light, and wondering if she thought we were well-behaved.
Of coure, my mother had no clue who the projectionist was….but I BELIEVED she did.
I can just picture you, Kay! Oh, that one made my stomach hurt from laughing. I think my daughters could remember a few similar things I did. I’m sort of waiting for Sharon to share about “Mr. Turner.” Thank you for sharing with us here, dear Kay…
Yes, Kay…….that is very, very funny. What a clever mom you had.
Well, this is a case of not what I believed, but what I persuaded my sister to believe. I was probably about 7 or 8 years old and my sister was about 4 or 5. I don’t know why, but I thought it would be a good idea to convince my sister that Peter Pan lived down our toilet! And my sister didn’t take much convincing. It only came to my mum’s attention when she found my sister talking to Peter Pan in the bathroom. Luckily, my sister was put right and was told that Peter Pan lives in Neverland.
My mum still smiles when she tells this story.
What a girl with an imagination, Kay! Poor Peter Pan. 🙂 Thanks for sharing and giving us all a grin. Blessings, Kay!