The neighborhood I grew up in rests below a hill covered with heavy shade. My neighborhood is quiet and calm. Not many noises can breach the thick treeline that surrounds the homes. Occasionally, the cooing of a pigeon or dove disturbed the tranquility on a Saturday morning. On the weekends, walking through the neighborhood was delightful. As I walked I would come across other neighbors who always had a warm smile. The atmosphere in my neighborhood always felt kind and forgiving, and it's a place I would always consider as my home.

The neighborhood of my childhood was kind, and it built the temperament of who I am today. I was always taught lessons during childhood to be good-natured and open-minded. This is because my neighborhood is a tight-knit community of all backgrounds and origins. Also, when I was younger I had frequent interactions with other kids my age. The old neighborhood crew is one of the main staples of the cul de sac. We would chalk up the sidewalks until the blacktop had a fine film on it. None of us ever quarreled, and being around my peers made it feel secure. But primarily, I thank my neighbor, Mr. Allen for teaching me his philosophy that I’ll never forget. These beliefs such as the “the golden rule” and “karma” were taught over an ice cold glass of lemonade. Mr. Allen was a wise older man who no longer worked, but spent his time gardening and volunteering at local shelters and food pantries. His wisdom was valuable to everyone, and Mr. Allen was our teacher. In most arguments, he is a voice of reason and he shaped the community into a kind and caring domain.

Mistakes were just a part of life in my youth, I lived and I learned. The more I blundered, the more I seemed to shape up over the years. My neighborhood was a safe place to make these mistakes and to learn. But I was always corrected so I never made the same mistake twice. The community where I grew up was easygoing and forgiving. Everyone was accepting and there weren’t any critics. Any criticism that was thrown out surely wasn’t malicious, but instead constructive. People always seem humbled in their own way and certainly nobody was perfect. My neighbors and I grew to forgive and forget. Having the privilege to be apart of such a neighborhood was a great opportunity to grow, not just for myself, but for all. My neighborhood was a safe place to learn from my mistakes and grow as a person.

In my peaceful neighborhood where I was raised, it is a secluded area where kids roam freely among the silent roads. It is a place for self-improvement where there isn’t anyone to judge you because of your background or past mistakes. In my community neighbors are friends rather than competition, and there isn’t anything to argue or fight about. The environment I grew up in will always be kind and forgiving and it is why I will always consider it a wonderful place and an endearing community.