The Nest

Written by guest Alexandra Weaver

I often wonder how my children will remember their childhood. What will be prevalent in their core memories? My hope is that they will always remember our family’s simple happiness and the beautiful moments that we shared. My hope is that in a couple of decades they can look back fondly on the years spent in their own nest. And my hope is that you enjoy this beautiful reminiscence of childhood as told by the first guest writer of Simplicity Sprouts. Enjoy. -Irina


The_NestI’ve decided to write the following things down because they are the earliest warm moments I can remember, and I don’t want to forget them. They are far away in the past, cozy, peaceful, and safe.

Before the big waves and adventures, there was a unique two-story apartment with steep stairs. We lived there. Our new little family: my father – a young architect, my mother – an even younger engineering student, and me.

There was the balcony with low rails overlooking the beautiful and friendly fountains of Kiev’s main square designed by my father. There was a red kitchen table with three black butterflies that my parents painted to represent the three of us. Our cat Leeza who peed in our shoes. And my crib, which my parents painted white where Leeza once pooped.

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