[Deleted]
Made in France! Carry with Care! As I opened the door of the cupboard to take out some glasses, I took a quick glance at the second shelf where a living part of my childhood still stood there. Two small, finely-designed plates were the only survivors of a set of plates which I always adored when I was a child. I took the plate out and enthusiastically looked at it. I felt the old feelings of joy, excitement, and happiness revived inside me. As a child, I was afraid of touching the plates because my mother and eldest sister would rebuke me for that; we children were forbidden to open the doors of the cupboard, let alone touching the dishes, especially those so-called French plates! The holy plates were used only when we had special guests. Everything was spic and span in our house, and the kitchen and its dishes were the most important things. I recall how my mother and sister washed, cleaned, and kept everything with a great obsession. But I had my own way of circumventing the laws. I would wait until my mother took her afternoon nap, and my sister watched her favorite TV program. I would quietly creep in the kitchen, took one of the plates out, and gazed at the green garden with two French lovers in a golden circle. The colorful lights reflected from the surface of the plate were bright and beautiful, like the colors of a rainbow. I delightfully looked at the woman’s purple skirt and her hair. All of those moments, however, spent in a peculiar fear; what if my mother or sister caught me red-handed? What if I dropped the plate and destroyed one of the family’s honors?! Those questions made me put the dish in its place and ran away. I was holding the plate in my hands, but this time there was no fear and anxiety to be reprimanded, there was no ‘Don’t touch it’ cry!’. But the plate was not as shining and bright as it used to be. The golden circles were almost erased, the colorful reflections almost disappeared, the woman’s skirt wasn’t that purple, and the man wasn’t that ugly as I used to think. Despite becoming pale, it was and still is part of my life.
Aug 30, 2015 2:57 AM
Corrections · 5
1

Made in France! Carry Handle with Care!

As I opened the door of the cupboard to take out some glasses, I took a quick glance at the second shelf where a living part of my childhood still stood there. The two small, finely-designed plates were the only survivors of a set of plates which I always adored (for some reason, "adore" seems to be a verb that doesn't use "time" adverbs.) /used to adore when I was a child. I took the plate out and enthusiastically looked at /examined it. I felt the old feelings of joy, excitement, and happiness revived inside me.

As a child, I was afraid of touching /to touch the plates because my mother and eldest sister would rebuke me for that; we children were forbidden to open the doors of the cupboard, let alone touching the dishes, especially those-->the so-called French plates! The-->Those holy plates were used only when we had special guests (the...those- it's a stylitic convention to use "the" when first naming a thing and then use "those" to give a colloquial reference to them). Everything was spic and span in our house, and the kitchen and its dishes were the most important things. I recall how my mother and sister washed, cleaned, and kept everything with a great obsession/were obsessed with keeping everything washed and clean.

But I had /my own /a ("my own way" would be used to contrast with "someone else's way") way of circumventing the laws. I would wait until my mother took her afternoon nap, and my sister watched her favorite TV program. Then, I would quietly creep in the kitchen, took take (would creep...(would) take) one of the plates out, and gazed ((would) gaze) at the green garden with two French lovers in a golden circle. The colorful lights reflecting from off the surface of the plate were bright and beautiful, like the colors of a rainbow. I delightfully looked at the woman’s purple skirt and her hair. All of those moments, however, were spent in a peculiar fear; what if my mother or sister caught me red-handed? What if I dropped the plate and destroyed one of the family’s honors heirlooms?! Those questions made me put the dish in its place and run away (made me put...(made me) run).

I was holding the plate in my hands, but this time there was no fear and or (mostly, "or" is used with negatives) anxiety to be of being reprimanded, there was no one yelling, "Don’t touch that!" cry! But the plate was not as shiny and bright as it used to be. The golden circles were almost erased, the colorful reflections had almost disappeared, the woman’s skirt wasn’t as purple, and the man wasn’t as ugly as I used to think. Despite becoming pale, it was and still is part of my life.

 

Beautiful.  Your English is fantastic, and you are a talented writer!

September 4, 2015
That's cool Mumtaz :) Those old dishes are so precious that we can't really throw them out or sell them even though we don't use them anymore. There is something inside them-maybe a part of our lives is attached to them. We look at them, and we recall some people, some events, and some memories one by one. I'm jealous to your sugary and the small pot for milk :D
August 30, 2015
Ocean, I still have the whole collection; all the dishes, all the tea cups and their small dishes, the coffee cups, tea pot, the sugary and the small pot for milk. they are more than 30 years old (,")
August 30, 2015
Want to progress faster?
Join this learning community and try out free exercises!
Articles You May Also Like
Doing Quizzes is a Good Way to Learn a Second Language… True or False?
17 likes · 5 Comments
Navigating Global Business: The Power of Business English, Cultural Sensitivity, and Career Advancement Strategies
15 likes · 6 Comments
10 Strategies to Keep Young Learners Involved in Your italki Classes
47 likes · 21 Comments
More articles