Past and present

Think about the smell of birthday cake candles just after they've been blown out. Remember the feeling of wiggling a loose tooth, or the sound of your favorite bedtime story being read aloud. That cozy, warm feeling is a part of me. It's like a photo album tucked away safely in your mind, full of pictures you can look at whenever you want. Each memory is a finished chapter in a book all about you, a story that has already been told. It’s the echo of laughter from a holiday dinner last year and the quiet pride you felt when you finally learned to ride your bike without training wheels. It’s every scraped knee, every hug from a grandparent, every song you’ve ever loved. I am the collection of all your yesterdays, a library of moments that make you uniquely you.

Now, stop and listen. Can you hear the sounds around you right now—maybe a car driving by, the quiet hum of a refrigerator, or your own steady breathing. Wiggle your toes inside your shoes and feel the fabric of your shirt against your skin. This bright, busy, happening-right-now feeling is also me. I am the blank page in your book that you are filling in with every word you read and every thought you have. I am the step you are about to take, the next bite of your snack, the kind word you are about to say. I am a story that is already written and a story that is just beginning, all at once. I am the Past and the Present.

For a very, very long time, people saw me but didn't know how to measure me. They watched me paint the sky with light every morning and tuck the world into darkness every night. They saw me in the way the moon changed its shape from a skinny sliver to a big, bright circle and back again. They felt me in the crisp autumn air that followed a long, hot summer. These were my first clocks and calendars, painted across the sky and felt in the changing seasons. Can you imagine trying to plan a party just by looking at the moon. It was tricky. Thousands of years ago, around 5,000 years ago to be exact, clever people in places like ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt started to track my patterns more carefully. They noticed the river flooded around the same time each year, which was perfect for their farms. They created the very first calendars to know when the seasons would change, when to plant their crops, and when to harvest them. They were learning to read my biggest, most important messages to organize their communities.

But I am more than just seasons and sunsets. I hold all the stories. A curious man from ancient Greece named Herodotus, who lived a very long time ago, knew this better than anyone. He was a great traveler and an even greater listener. He journeyed to faraway lands, talked to everyone he could, and collected their stories about great battles, amazing buildings, and powerful kings. Then he did something revolutionary: he wrote them all down so they wouldn't be forgotten like whispers in the wind. He was one of the first historians, a person who helps everyone remember me, the Past, and learn from it.

As people's lives got busier, they needed to track smaller pieces of me. Remembering which year to plant corn was one thing, but knowing what time to show up for a meeting was another. People invented sundials that told time using moving shadows, but they didn't work on cloudy days or at night. They built incredible water clocks, or clepsydras, that dripped water from one container to another to mark the passing hours. These were clever, but not quite perfect. Then, a brilliant Dutch scientist named Christiaan Huygens came along. In the year 1656, he took an idea from another great thinker, Galileo, and perfected an invention that changed everything: the pendulum clock. With its steady, swinging arm—tick, tock, tick, tock—people could finally chop the day into neat little pieces called hours, minutes, and seconds. For the first time, you could agree to meet a friend at exactly three o'clock. My "now" suddenly became much more organized, all thanks to that steady, swinging beat.

All of those big stories—of calendars and clocks and curious historians—are part of my grand journey. But you have your very own journey with me, too, and it's just as important. Your Past is your own special treasure chest. It’s filled with every birthday you’ve celebrated, every picture you’ve drawn, every secret you’ve shared, and every new thing you’ve ever learned. Think of it. The time you learned to tie your shoes, the taste of your favorite ice cream, the feeling of winning a game with your friends. All of these moments have built the amazing person you are right now. They are your roots, holding you steady and strong and reminding you of how much you've grown.

And your Present. Well, that’s your superpower. It is this very moment, this single heartbeat. Right now, you have the power to learn something fascinating, to be kind to a friend who is sad, to build the tallest tower of blocks ever, or to decide what you'll dream about tonight. The Present is where you plant the seeds for the memories of tomorrow. The Past teaches you lessons and gives you wonderful stories to share, showing you the path you have walked. But the Present is your gift. It’s your chance to use those lessons, to be brave, to be happy, and to write the next exciting page in your own story, and in the great, big story of us all.