Lighting a Fire

In my memory, the most happy and interesting thing in my childhood is making a fire. There were many farms around the town my family lived in my childhood. After harvest, many rows of wheat’s stems were left. My buddies and I were keen on collecting firewood and light fires.

Most of my buddies were boys. I was six while the boys was seven, eight and ten. They always asked me to collected firewood with them in farms and lighted a fire in the space.

In a sunny afternoon, we chased each other and arrived a farm which had a lot of wheat stubble and withered stems of other wild plants. The eldest boy divided area for us to collect firewood. I followed “header’s” order; I lowered my head, used right hand collecting firewood and putted it in left hand as I was walking slowly. All my mind focused on choosing firewood not on my foot that wore a pair of plastic sandal. Suddenly, a hard stem insert into my big toe when I was going to stepped on earth. A terrible pain stopped my step. I looked at my foot and tried to keep calm. I dared not to pull the stem out by myself and did not want my buddies to know because I knew they would send me to home which would influence them collecting firewood! I think it was really a big deal in my childhood! Thus, I told them I wanted go back home calmly. They paid most of their attention in firewood and did not find nothing wrong of me. Then I walked lamely and slowly on the way to home. 

It took me a long time to go back home, then, I told my parents my foot was hurt. In the beginning, my dad tried to pull it out in his hand but failed. And I finally could not bear the pain and burst into tears. My mom gave my dad a pliers and dad used it to pull the stem out.

Though blood incarnadined my toes and shoes, the pain help me remember my memorable and interesting childhood.