I remember as a child running around at break of night to catch and hold the natural wondrous fireflies. I remember the amazement I felt when we caught first glimpse of their light. I knew they would be simple to get but still experienced a surge of nervous adrenaline at the thought of at least clasping one between my loosely clenched fingers. I wanted to be the first to get one; I did not want to see the baby stars in the hands of any other before I had the chance to hold one. I sprinted ahead I swiped my hands around frantically trying to accomplish my goal. I ran here then there threw my hand up, brought them down, look, and let out a sigh, I hadn’t been successful at all. Then the nightmare was realized, my brother or sister or cousin etc would shout, “I got one!” I was not happy I was not even mad I was beyond anger I was dark green with the jealousy that had instantly taken over all my body. I stomped off to vent to my mom. It’s not fair, ugh; I wanted to be first, as you can tell I was a real firecracker as a child. She would ignore me for a while then turn to say, “Emma, if you would be quiet and slow down the fireflies will come to you and catching them will be easy,” A good mom right? I of course took her advice, I always did. I picked my spot like it was my new home, stood still, calmed my heart rate, and waited the hardest thing for me to do. Then when it seemed like I would never get one and everybody else had my luck would reverse my dream of the moment would come true and one little bug would make me the happiest kid in the world. Slowly but not too slow I would wrap my hand around the glowing little buddy and “MOM, YOU WERE RIGHT I GOT ONE!!!!” My joy was of course uncontainable and soon the whole firefly catching party was crowding around to look at my firefly because as I had yelled out to them all it was the brightest one ever.
I read this poem(one by robert frost called fireflies look it up) and simply fell in love because all at once those childish dreams and realization of them came like flood waters into my mind. I remembered the night air, the sounds of crickets, frogs, owls, and the voice of my mother calming my rowdy spirits so I could get what I wanted, the glow of the bugs, my little legs racing frantically to be the first and best catcher. I love these feelings, I love the sounds, the state of mind I was in then when I could just wonder and not worry about why they are as they are just look in astonishment and know it was fun, and that fun was all that mattered when I was a younger me.