Frank: first memory

September 11, 2014
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September 11, 2014 Theo Brainin

Frank: first memory

By Anne Brugts, content manager Story Terrace 

Frank: First Memory

“The first memory from my childhood? Don’t you think I’m a bit too young to be looking back already? Actually, I guess not. Everyone has a first memory.”

It was a really hot summer, one where the sweltering heat made you want to retreat to a garden chair and hang around for the rest of the clammy day. On one of these summer days there was a party at our house. I can’t recall what the exact occasion was, but the house was filled with family members. We’d had lunch in the garden, but because of the intense heat, the guests had retreated indoors afterwards. Now we had seated ourselves on the veranda, puffing from the heat in unison.

       ‘Like a small show woman she came waddling towards us’

The only one who was still outside was my younger sister. She was playing in the far corner of the garden in a little swimming pool on the grass. The pool had the shape of a shell; a lot of people had ones like that in those days. The blue one that came in two sections, which you could fill with either water or sand. You know the sort.

While people were making languid conversation inside, someone noticed that my little sister was coming towards the veranda. She was at the age when she had just started walking, so when she showed off her new skill, she knew she would catch fond glances from everyone. Like a small show woman she came waddling towards us, and all eyes were upon her. As she drew near the door of the veranda, it struck us that she was holding something in her hands. She was going to show us something. In the hands she stretched out to us, she revealed a brownish gunk, which squeezed through her fingers as she pressed them tightly together. The moment her audience realised what she was carrying, she called out: ‘Look mummy, daddy! Peanut butter!'”

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For Amsterdam Stories, Anne Brugts roams the streets of the Dutch capital to portray one citizen at a time. 

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