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From curiosity and receptivity come the great adventures of childhood. The latter is the great purveyor to memory . It supplies those few [[strikethrough]] monumental [[/strikethrough]] ^[[crowning]] impressions that are going to be present for the rest of life and usually are ^[[either abhorred or]] relished as long as consciousness endures. Children are so absorbed in what life offers them whether they find it in the gutter, or in the garden, that it is putting the clock a long way ahead to ask them for "self- expression." Childhood is a beginning, not an end in i itself,. It is a germ, not a flower. and each of us has a right to ask , sometime in middle life ,or old age; "What did my childhood do for me" ? How short it was .. and what did it contain.. Happy is the parent who lives long enough to be thanked for what he gave his child. if he deserve such thanks.
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