#55to55, day 11
Throwback to my 12-year-old self, when my little sister gave me this poëziealbum for my birthday. A ‘sweet’ gesture, even though we were pretty much at war with each other at the time. It was meant to be a farewell book for my classmates, as none of us knew where we’d end up after elementary school—or whether we’d see each other again in high school.
But apparently, none of us really understood that we were supposed to pour our hearts into it. Flipping through the pages now, it’s filled with the sweetest little rhymes. And everyone copied each other, haha. My sister even tells a little story in there that I have no idea where she got it from. The funniest part is still that she signed it with ‘your sweet sister’ ... bold move! While at that age, we were more like cats and dogs.
And those poëzieplaatjes! Everyone was so generous with them that my book is now a little masterpiece. What strikes me most, though, is how many of those rhymes were about life in the Netherlands—a place most of us hadn’t even set foot in at the time. See here the echoes of colonialism on a small scale: dreaming of a country we only knew through stories.
Anyway, my own foreword in the book is something else—pure rhyme galore! Luckily, I also got some heartfelt advice. Like: ‘If you’re not satisfied with yourself, fill the emptiness, move forward, don’t look back at the past.’ And here I am now, nostalgically flipping through it—not out of dissatisfaction, thankfully!
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