What Childhood Stories Do You Have

Mine is kind of dull ( to a point ) for the first seven years of my life, DUUUHHHH,
however it began to fill up with experiences that for the most part I could have done without,
like the time when I was in first grade and my friend who was a future scientist who sat in front of me was killed by his dad who was cleaning his gun. Then there was the time that I fell face first into a large garbage fire and I felt the hands of someone who picked me up and stood me on my feet without a burn on me except for a dime size place on my hand. AND NO ONE WAS AROUND. God was my protector. and there were a few other things as well,  but when we moved into Old Mexico when I was twelve , THAT'S when my fun began. But first a little background , My parents were missionaries . OK that's enough about them. Anyway , we went in an old school bus and we had no idea what to expect. When we got there , it was in the rainy season and that's when we found out how much the school bus leaked and since there was my parents and five sibling brats and me the saint , ( yea right ) there was not a lot of room to spare and even less where it was dry. However, it was the experience of being in an foreign land and being with a foreign people of who we understood not a single word. Since the bus leaked everywhere, dad rented a place were we began the process of pointing at something and making quizzical faces as to how to say what we pointed at. Us kids began to pick it up fast and soon we were talking with the people ,albeit chopped up, but we were getting there. It was there at the old town of Ocampo Tamaulipas Mexico that I learned how to swim with some of the kids and how to fish with harpoons under water, how to find wild chili in the mountains, make an adobe house and a whole quantity of other things. Once when I was 14, I was walking to a friends house stiff legging a pellet gun so that the commandante of the town we were in at the time could not see it . it was pitch black and there were few street lights and as I was coming up to one of these lights, my brother was coming towards me but behind a very pretty Mexican girl and he whistled at her. There was a cantena ( bar ) on the corner of the plaza where this light is and a guy was standing outside by the door of the cantena. Well wouldn't you know it but the guy steps into the bar and tells this drunk man that some gringo was whistling at his girl which he promptly picked up his machete and came outside to do business with the gringo. The problem was that the gringo who done the whistling was already out of sight and into the dark while I was coming from out of the dark and into the light and guess what, You guessed it , I'm a gringo, so he thought it was me and came running over my direction yelling that he was going to split me into ( though I'm being polite ) .
Even at that age I was never prone to run and so I stood there and waited until just the right distance at which time I swung the rifle up and pointed it right between his eyes and held it there which in that same instance he froze not knowing that it was a pellet gun at which time I to was thinking , if he goes to swing that machette I will pull this trigger. It may not kill him but he may think he's dying and that will buy me time to get away. The good thing is , he lowered the machette down slowly and walked away and I continued my hunting trip with a friend that night. True story.
If anyone is interested I will post other experiences that are similar and none will be fictional.