My fascination with history stems from when I was young.
There’s a park behind my house. It has a play structure and a large field filled with tiny pink flowers. Situated in the far side of the park is a big white house and a smaller shed-like building. These two buildings were the museum and the General Store.
I spent almost all of my time here during the summers from when I was 8 to maybe 14. I had learned everything about all of the different rooms of the house as well as each artifact and its origin. I would wake up early in the morning and arrive at the museum before the guides did. I don’t think all of the guides particularly liked me, but two of them took me under their wing

There’s the first, He met me when I was 8 and continued to work at the museum for the next four or five summers. He always remembered my birthday and went out of his way to teach me everything I know. He basically raised me and I’m still in contact with him now. I don’t think it comes as a surprise to anyone that he became a history and geography teacher
The second guide, He was a weird dude and looking back on some of the conversations I overheard, I don’t think that the other tour guides liked him very much. he usually worked alternating days with my other favourite. So, on the days where one was gone, two would bring in Magic the Gathering cards and teach me how to play tabletop games. It was so fun. he bought me my first MTG starter decks and ended up giving me a large portion of his card collection. He lived on the same street as me and sometimes when he was late to work they would send me to go knock on his door to wake him up. Unfortunately, I’m no longer in touch with him. He moved away one day and refused to give me any way to contact him. Before then, if I needed him to help me with Magic or if he was to come over to help me learn Hearthstone on my computer, or even hit the local Friday night Magic tournament with me, I would leave a letter for him in his letterbox. I often wonder if he’s doing well. I asked the first guide once or twice, but he has no way of knowing either.

The best days at the museum were the rare ones when one and two worked together. The house tells the story of the family that previously lived there. I became beyond fascinated with their lives, all of the things inside the big white house, and the general store sitting beside it. The house itself smelled of old carpet and wood. There were a number of artifacts inside that I was fascinated by, but my favourite part was the cellar. It was a large cellar. It exposed the foundation of the home. All built by hand using rocks cut perfectly to size by the house owner himself.

The museum never got a proper air conditioner so on days that were really hot one and two would open up the large trap door and the three of us would dangle our legs in the cold cellar, drink iced tea, and talk about all sorts of things. Some days our conversations would circle around history, some days about the new horror movie (I had a huge fascination with the Purge movies and one worked at a theatre) or some strange internet meme.
Looking back, I really idolized these two guys. They were just 25-year-old university students who needed a summer job, but they were a lot more to me. On days where my home was unstable and my parents were arguing about money, I had a place to go where I never once had a bad experience. They passed on a lot of their interests to me, they took the time to talk to me, and as a kid that wasn’t something I often got the privilege to see. I didn’t have any friends in elementary school and the other tour guides were often confused as to why I was so dedicated to coming around every day. Rain or shine, I was always there in the morning. I was always ready to learn something new. one and two never questioned me, they just took me in and answered my never-ending questions and talked to me about my life.

I will always be grateful for the time I had there, and how it shaped me as a person.

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