Nostalgic Echoes: Cherishing Our Golden Childhood Days

Walking to school was a cherished ritual, regardless of the weather. Every morning began with Catholic Mass at 7:30 AM, a special celebration for children where we took turns participating. Some played the guitar while others coordinated the singing and readings. The twenty-minute service led perfectly into the school day, with a few minutes left for a final leisurely walk to school. When the clock struck 8 AM, the bells from distant churches would ring, reminding us if we were running late. All students would line up in the central court to first sing the Angelus, followed by the National Anthem. Who could forget the squeaky noise of the old Farfisa organ?

I still remember the tall and thin headmistress, Miss Vella, but secretly we used to call her "Olivia Oil" because of her resemblance to Popeye's wife. She did her best to lead the singing, but her thin and off-key voice made the dogs howl, prompting us to think, "Don’t give up your day job!" Her efforts were meant to accompany our innocent singing, if you could call it that, but it was a great way to see who made it to school that day before lessons began.

Evenings were just as special, with dinner at 7 PM sharp, filled with stories and laughter. By 8:30 or 9 PM, we were tucked into bed, our minds brimming with dreams and the promise of tomorrow. Takeaways were rare treats—pastizzi, chips, and a cold Coke were savored delights. Once a week or fortnight, we shared a Mars bar or my favorite, a Bounty bar, usually contraband from Italy. Most items not manufactured in Malta had to be sourced from the black market. All items were extremely expensive, considering the wages and the fact that there was almost always just one breadwinner in most families.

As soon as we got home, we’d change out of our school uniforms into comfy clothes. We were allowed to watch thirty minutes of "Bim Bum Bam" before tackling homework and heading off to doctrine studies. Afterward, we’d play in the streets with neighborhood kids until dusk, our laughter echoing through the alleys. The aroma of home-cooked meals filled the air. Dinner was a sacred family time to recount our day’s adventures.

The home phone, with its long cord, was the center of our lives. For many families, it had a special table in the main hall where one could sit down and look up numbers in the index book, which popped up according to the letter requested. This meticulous job was my dad's pride; his beautiful handwriting kept the book updated. It was also our way to remember the addresses of our friends and relatives when we needed to send Christmas cards. Conversations on the home phone were never private but always heartfelt. Mobile phones were a distant dream. Our TV choices were limited to a few beloved Italian channels, and our games were simple yet joyous—noli, passju, lastiku, and ball games that brought us pure fun.

Summers were magical, filled with daily trips to the beach where we swam and played under the sun for hours, never worrying about sunscreen. We used oil to enhance our tans, embracing the warmth and freedom of those endless days. Being forced to stay indoors was the ultimate punishment, and our parents often said, "You better find something to do before I find something for you."

Music came from cassettes or vinyl records, each song a nostalgic memory. Trips to the local store were adventures, buying large loaves of bread and bottles of milk with foil caps. A 5-cent lollipop was a treasured treat. Meals were lovingly prepared by our mothers or grandmothers, and we drank tap water, savoring its refreshing taste. Cartoons filled our mornings and afternoons, and we played outside without a care, staying out until the streetlights flickered on.

We respected our elders, choosing our words carefully in their presence. Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and even our friends' parents formed a close-knit community. Teachers, priests, doctors, and nurses were authority figures we respected deeply. Detention awaited us if we misbehaved or arrived late to school.

Those were the golden days! Today’s children may never understand the simple joys we experienced. Our childhood was a tapestry of beautiful moments, each memory a precious thread. Share this with your friends if you were one of us, and let’s reminisce together 🤗🥰