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I almost cried when I read “Roxaboxen”, written by Alice McLerran and illustrated by Barbara Cooney. It was such a sweet story and it reminded me of my own childhood game with friends.

At the back of the book, the background behind the story the author shared comes from her mother’s childhood. He did research on relatives, former residents, and articles on childhood. It was located at Second Avenue and Eighth Street in Yuma, Arizona.

As a new resident of Yuma, he had to see the site too. Sure enough, it is there and has been preserved as a neighborhood historic site. It wouldn’t mean much to you if you hadn’t read the book once you’ve done it, you can imagine the children playing. It is a steep hill with only a lot of boulders and rocks. A sidewalk, benches, and sign have been added.

In the story, the children built a city out of smooth rocks and colored glass. They elected a mayor. The sticks became riding horses. They had adventures in the Wild West. They pretended there was a river. The rocks were turned into play money in exchange for currency used in simulation shops made from old wooden boxes. They made a cemetery for lizards. They sucked honey from the Ocotillo flowers.

A gray-haired man recalled fond memories while picking up a stone on the beach. Fifty years later, the woman the story was about came back and found the rocks still there.

When I went to see the site, I did not see a chassis, cemetery or wooden boxes. I saw the rocks and the outlines of cities in history. The area is industrial, low-income, run-down. Yuma is a true city of the old west. It is developing and snowbirds inhabit the Foothills area, but it is still open enough to appreciate the history behind it. You can see mountains around for miles.

Looking back on my own childhood adventures, I can imagine these children playing. They would not have been rich. They remind me of “The Little Rascals” that we emulated. They also remind me of “Peter Pan”.

Children are the same from generation to generation all over the world. There is an innocence in childhood that we lose as adults, but that is always there for us to bring out when we are ready to return to it. In this case, it is fortunate for us that it has been preserved. I plan to read the story to my grandchildren and bring them to the site when they are a little older.

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