The writing prompts invite postcrossers to write about a different topic on their postcards’ messages every month. These are just suggestions though — if you already know what you want to write about, or the recipient gives you some pointers, that’s great too!
Recently, Barbara (bjhowden) wrote to us about a theme she suggests in her profile for people writing to her: what are your earliest memories? Over time, a lot of people have answered the prompt, and she shared some of the themes with us—the birth of siblings, time with grandparents, pranks played as a child, and sometimes ones which are more bittersweet or painful. Either way, a lot of people seem to want to talk about it.
It’s a lovely project, and we’d like to invite everyone to participate this month in the postcards you write!
Both of my earliest memories are from when I was just barely two years old, so I’ve often been asked if I’m sure I really remember, and don’t just know the story. But my family are pretty certain that I do, because I wasn’t told the story. I remembered it myself, and only shared the fact that I remembered it with my mother much later. It’s surprisingly vivid still, all the same; I remember my grampy (my father’s father) holding me and teaching me to make a strong Lego house by overlapping the bricks instead of just clipping them one on top of the other in a column. My other very early memory is about him as well, probably a few days later since he was no longer sitting up.
As you might have guessed, my grampy died not long after; I count myself very fortunate that I have these precious memories! Funnily enough, I also remember teaching my younger sister to build a secure Lego foundation, in the same way, some years later. So in a way, Grampy taught both of us, even though he didn’t meet my sister.
What about you? Are your earliest memories something important, or something small? How old are you in your earliest memory? We’d love to hear your reminisces on the cards you write this month—and in the comments here too, if you like!
29 comments so far
The earliest memory of mine is about me and my grandma staying in our old house. I was actually awake but lying in the bed , my grandma was pouring the boiled water into the big bottle . Hearing the sound , I felt peaceful .
That scene is unforgettable to me ✨
That's such a lovely memory and that you passed on the skill that your grampy taught you, very precious ❤️
My first memories of the first time we flew on an airplane, it was incredibly beautiful. And then it was something cool for me, now I remember this memory every time I fly on Plane
My first memory was when I was 2 and playing in the sandbox, saw a giant spider and called for my mom!! Still have a fear of spiders 😅
Two very early ones: Standing in our kitchen watching my father drop food coloring into glasses of lemonade to make different colors. And standing in our garage on a cold winter's day with snow. I turned on the overhead light hoping it would warm me up.
Some of my earliest memories include playing with the house computer with my older brother.
My life has been truly rich in emotions and memories: born in Milan, I spent part of my youth in Paris, with my French girlfriend.
I lived for some time in the heart of the Italian Apennines, between Bologna and Florence, and finally I have lived in Rome for 30 years, often returning to Milan where my elderly mother still lives.
And it is in Milan that I have my very first memories from when I was just over 2 years old: a 45 rpm vinyl record (maybe younger kids don't even know what it is) that was given to me for a small operation on my tonsils and that I still have.
The record was the story of an animated character called "Calimero", a kind, slightly unlucky black chick, still wearing half of the eggshell on his head, who became famous in mid-1963 on an Italian television program...
A lot of time has really passed since then!
Warm greetings from Rome, Italy
My first memories of the first time my father took us to a picnic and we went swimming in a local small lake outside the city, wish he was still here with me, I miss him a lot 😢
What a lovely thing to have a memory of such a special person and be able to share it with someone who did not get to meet him! (My oldest memory is about the same age, but it was a hospitalization and operation, so not as positive!) I am glad you get to retain a memory of your grandfather!
A cute writing prompt ! One of my oldest memories is a similar one to the previous commentator, MythOwney, about a surgery i had as a small kid, however I was home after hospitalisation. And my dear grandma brought me quantities of books in the time I had to wear plasters and had to relearn to walk so to make time more interesting, I started the skill of reading as an autodidact early. The situations had something positive in it.
Another old memory, me at 5, standing beside a huge nutcracker statue in a leisure center and looking very happy. I still have this photo framed on my tapestry!
My First Disney movie what saw in the theatre was; The Aristocats 1970.
I was in heaven and still I am because I became a Disney Fan.
In the beginning of 60' I could live quite an independent life because there was so little traffic - so it was quite safe for a child. At the age of 5 and 6 I run around in the forests with my friends and walk alone to the kindergarten 2 kms away. We moved to Kuopio when I was 6 and starting the school but I visited once my old childhood place and could easily remember the places where we used to live and recognized the surroundings - even if many places had changed.
Mijn eerste herinnering: ik denk dat ik een jaar of 3 was. Ik ging met mijn vader naar een voetbalwedstrijd in Amsterdam. We moesten een trap beklimmen van planken. Je kon daar tussendoor naar beneden kijken. Ik durfde die trap niet te beklimmen. Mijn vader was mank, zijn ene been was korter en hij droeg aangepaste schoenen en liep met een stok. Een vreemde meneer heeft me toen naar boven gedragen.
One of my earliest memories was staring the empty road standing behind the gates of my kindergarten and waiting to be picked up late by my parents, much to the annoyance of my caretaker. I was the last one and remember that feeling of loneliness.
How interesting that you mention Barbara! Postcrossing generated her address to me in November 2024 and this is the postcard that I sent to her: https://www.postcrossing.com/postcards/US-10878673 As for the writing prompt, I have a lot of early memories, some good and some bad, but all are too long to write out here! :)
My first clear memory when I was about 2, my mother reading a book to me and it was about piggies. I watched her pretty red lips, fascinated by the way she said the P word. Pretty Pink Piggies. A little pouty puff of Ps.
2-2-2025
This is such an interesting question. I have been doing genealogy for over 20 years, my family being from Slovakia. It has been a long and hard journey but one that I am truly enjoying. Unfortunately, most of my family have died, and my cousins don't seem to be as interested in this topic as I. I recently wrote a book via Memoriter, a website that asks specific questions and they print you a book about you. It is a sometimes-difficult task as some questions are challenging but I am thankful for doing so. I am also putting together a book on what I remember about my family (individually) in the hopes it will be read and perhaps spark interest in my family to pick up my genealogy when I am gone. In the meantime, one memory is going to the local fair with my parents and siblings (brother, sister, brother). We always got to buy one toy before going home, if we did not win anything from the games we played. I always remember picking the bear on a stick, my favorite. We dressed up for this trip, ate cotton candy and got our hands and face super sticky.
That's such an amazing question... I was born and raised in a small town called Guaraci in São Paulo state countryside, Brazil, at the 80's... life was much calmer back them! I remember I was about 2 and half years (by the end of 1983) and my older sister was taking part in a kindergarten party and she was dressed up to dance... I was extremely shy with big glasses and was so excited to take part... my mother told me I wasn't in school yet and I would have my time too!!! I still live at the same town and every place here is part of my life story...
My first memories..... are lost in the fog!
But many of my memories are close to the age of 3-4... I was running and playing outside from morning until night chasing or gathering my grandmother's flock of geese and ducks!
So happy, with so few!
xoxo
My first memory of the childhood is late evening I'm laying in my crib and listening my mum reading a fairytale. I was on cloud seven, and wanted to remember the moment of feeling being loved. I was less than 3 y.o.
It was nice reading your earliest memory. That felt kinda vivid even if that was yours! My earliest memory is slightly bitter, so I don't think I'll be writing about this on the postcards, but I'll gladly share it down here! No tragedy intended, rather just life being life. In my earliest memory I am two years old and I see my father imprecating while slamming the door at me and my mother, never to be seen again for years after that day.
My earliest memory is sneaking out cookies from my grandmothers cookie jar. It was shaped as a cow and made noise when lifted open all the way. My two older brothers and I would work to lift the jar lid the slightest and I would reach in and grab them for the three of us to enjoy.
For the last few years, I have asked people to share favorite memories of their grandparents with me. I now have 3 shoe boxes filled with postcards preserving the memories of grandmothers cooking and planting gardens, of grandfathers going for walks and telling stories. It's been a lovely experiment. <3
my first memory: I was only 2 years old, there was some kind of coldness in our house. My aunt had died at age 30. Everybody (parents and grandparents) were in mourning. For me it felt as cold.
I think I was maybe 2-3 at the time, it was summer and the sun was slowly setting. My parents and me we returned from some trip or visit, I was walking over the hill that was separating the parking from the block of flats we were living at. I remember my dad carrying my pink stroller. I carried this memory for a long time unsure whether it was just in my head or true. I asked my parents some time ago if I had a pink stroller when I was a kid and I described it precisely, my mom told me I did :D.
My earliest memory is me taking a very full glass of orange juice out of my mothers hands and her telling me to be careful drinking it. I remember thinking i was such a big girl because i was given a glass and not a sippy cup that day... only to then forget that it wasn't in a sippy cup and lay down on my parents bed to drink, proceeding to waterboard myself with juice for a solid 3 seconds before having to go tell my mother that she would have to change her bed sheets. I can't imagine she would have been too happy with me that day.
Probably it’s not the first of my memories, but one of them. I was about 3 y.o., my grandma often took me to visit her sister family. Her niece has son same ages as me. I remember myself sitting together with my cousin on the bench of old boat in the middle of the river while Aunt is sculling. And I put my favorite yellow-orange color plush harlequin into the water. It became wet and heavy immediately, so I hardly could took it off the water by my one hand, because by second hand, I catch the seat and my cousin didn’t help me.
Many-many years after that my grandma told me that I was very much crying, because the she never let me go for boat trip on the river. She was very afraid, that if the boat is overkeeled so her niece will save her own son, and there is no one to save me. But after my several gripes one day she let me go. Amazing, that I completely don't remember, that I was crying because of gradma' prohibitions, but remember the sunny day and my wet and heavy clown with me on the boat.
My grandpa was born in the same house he lived (and died) in, and the same home I spent much of my childhood summers at. Both my parents were medical students and as you can imagine, being medical students meant the cadavers got more attention than my sister or I for a while, their goal being to make a better life for us. (They succeeded.)
Granny and Grandpa's southern style house, with the tall white pillars holding up the front porch and porch swing, was filled with the smells of country fried bacon and eggs in the mornings and my grandma's cakes and pies in the the afternoons. During the day, my grandpa loaded us on the tailgate of his little Toyota truck and we headed to the garden. Through the pasture of cows on an old worn dirt path, bare feet dangling off the back of the tailgate, so close to the ground, cow "patties" would squeeze between our little toes if we weren't quick enough to lift them. Otherwise, we would swing our dirty feet, wind on our backs, and sing "Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home..."
We picked beans and shucked a lot of corn on the back of that old truck.
But, the memory I remember earliest was walking down that same old path with my grandpa. He always had his hands in his pockets and would play with his quarters and dimes and pennies, jingling his change as we walked. He noticed me watching him one day, so he gave me some change to put in my own pockets so I could jingle mine just like him.
And so we walked. Together. Alerting all the birds and trees and rocks we were on our way to the garden, just to check out the vegetables and make sure the deer weren't eating too much of our corn. Just to walk and think.
That jingling of change was my earliest memory and I've chased that memory my whole life. I've had good moments. A lot of them, were with my grandpa. That was not just the earliest, it was the best day of my childhood. With the greatest man in my life, who taught me that jingling change is not about the sound of money, but about the love and selflessness of those pennies being shared between two humans, because nothing is fun if you do it alone. 😁
aaaaaaawwwww
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