Tales of Childhood

It was one of those days when memories of childhood came rushing back to me. I remember how, during that time, I was completely engrossed in movies and all kinds of fictional dramas. Every Saturday, we went for fellowship prayer at the top of the mountain—a tradition I cherished while growing up.
There was one particular time I remember vividly. On that day, I raced ahead of my siblings and family to reach the mountain top first, and I did it! Standing at the peak, my childish imagination took over, and I felt like a superhero, just like in the movies. A tempting voice whispered to me, suggesting that I jump with my umbrella. What if I jumped and floated through the air, landing safely back on the ground?
This thought filled my mind, and I began to picture it. The idea of soaring through the sky, gliding with my umbrella.
I was incredibly tempted to jump, filled with the thrill of the moment, but then a wave of fright washed over me. It was a thought about my mother that struck fear into my heart. What if she saw me leaping with the umbrella? The panic that might create in her was the only thing that held me back. If I had been alone on that mountaintop, I probably would have taken that leap.
And who knows? I might not be here now, typing this. I could have been gone, far gone. For that, I thank God for life and for every childish thought that our parents helped us set aside.
There was one particular time I remember vividly. On that day, I raced ahead of my siblings and family to reach the mountain top first, and I did it! Standing at the peak, my childish imagination took over, and I felt like a superhero, just like in the movies. A tempting voice whispered to me, suggesting that I jump with my umbrella. What if I jumped and floated through the air, landing safely back on the ground?
This thought filled my mind, and I began to picture it. The idea of soaring through the sky, gliding with my umbrella.
I was incredibly tempted to jump, filled with the thrill of the moment, but then a wave of fright washed over me. It was a thought about my mother that struck fear into my heart. What if she saw me leaping with the umbrella? The panic that might create in her was the only thing that held me back. If I had been alone on that mountaintop, I probably would have taken that leap.
And who knows? I might not be here now, typing this. I could have been gone, far gone. For that, I thank God for life and for every childish thought that our parents helped us set aside.