A few years ago, one of my daughters gave me a pop-up carousel of Crayola crayons. What a dream come true! I reveled in owning a lavish amount of color.

The smell of crayons has always created an atmosphere of possibility for me and brings back happy school memories. When I was a child, teachers gave everyone a slim new box of 8 Crayola crayons—always Crayola—on the first day of school. Now if a school budget manages to cover crayons, it’s often a community collection. I loved having my own box.
Crayon tips had a special beauty, too. Their sharp tips, slightly angled, disappeared fast. In my Crayola carousel, most of the tips are long gone. I noticed that magenta remains unused, along with peach and a metallic gold.
When I journal, a splash or scribble of color sometimes expresses more than words. Turquoise blue, aquamarine, and inchworm (a delicate green) are the most used. One of the best greens became a dog snack. I heard the crunching from another room and rushed to save the crayon. Only shards survived
What memories do crayons hold for you?
Leave a reply to Kern Windwraith Cancel reply