My Earliest Memories Part 2

Not all my memories were bad, but the more I think about my life in Venezuela, I can't help but think only about them. Like the time I begged the lunch lady at the private school to let me eat for free because I was hungry. I didn't have money for some reason and I had to resort to begging for food. To this day I remember how small and inadequate I felt. Those felings never leave a person. I also remember when one of my parents friends took me by my legs and spun me around in the store. My head hit the corner of one of our display cases and nearly took out my eye. I still have the scar.

The store I keep mentioning is the only one I remember well because that was the one my mom usually worked in. It had a factory in the back which had rolls of fabric stacked all over and a sewing area where my mom's designs where produced by hand by an army of workers with sewing machines. The front had some display cases and a changing room. My mom always told me of stories of how I would go up to customers and tell them they were taking too long to decide and I would select the outfit. I don't have recollections of that, but it's my moms favorite.

One disturbing memory I had was of the time I received my first bicycle. I was at the store and one of the workers brought it in. I was so happy that I hugged and thanked the worker without acknowledging my mom at all. Althought I was being told that it was a gift from my mom, all I remember was the worker. I actually learned from that because I try to be with my children as much as possible because gifts can never replace the affection created by companionship. You see, this worker was always the one who would help my mom with any chore that related to me, and so as a child, my affection was always toward the worker.