And another for Little Cherub

Just for fun, here is one for Little Cherub ...

I am from my mother's milk, from sleepy eyelids and soft, downy hair.

I am from the brick town house snuggled between its neighbours, summer cool and winter warm.

I am from the daisy, the buttercup, the forget-me-not.

I am from Sabbath prayers and stubborn argument, from English and Yiddish, from Smith and Holmes, from Cohen and Lewinsky.

I am from musicians and dancers, from practical common sense and inventive eccentricity.

From precious pet names and whispered endearments.

I am from Catholic and Jew, from Catechism Class and Cheder, from Christmas and Hannukah, from Easter and Passover, from Old Testament and New.

I am from the Home Counties and the Jewish East End, from Sunday roasts and smoked salmon bagels.

From refugees from Hitler's wrath and a little boy spinning dreidls for monkey nuts; from farm labourers building their own Methodist chapel and a little girl lighting candles at England's Nazareth.

I am from scrapbooks and digital cameras, from webcams and DVDs. My memories are hopes for the future not reflections on the past.