I have a secret sandbox that is behind my house in the woods and I have been going to this sandbox ever since I discovered it when moving to Clarkson. For the past 8 years I have being going to my secret sandbox right down a little path in my backyard and year after year it gets more destroyed and broken due to storms and the woods. The secret sandbox has been at my house before my family moved in so sometimes I thin about what could of already happened at this sandbox. When I think about the stories that could of happened in this little sandbox I think of other kids who have probably been to this sandbox and saw it as a story like I do. I remember the first time I saw this sandbox it was in perfect condition. All the bricks were in place, the white base was painted smoothly, the roof Had all the wood in  pieces placed straight. Not far behind the sandbox there is a woods and in those woods there is a story that connects to the sandbox and how it got there. Deep inside the sandbox there is life, because other and others have had stories and memories here as much as I did. Hopefully over the years my family can repair the damages this sandbox has overcome. Replace the bricks, paint the base, and fix the roof. This special sandbox was like a quiet place to me where I was in my own world and away from people, A place where I could talk privately with my friends and family, A place where I felt safe enough to sit down, and a place that was worth taking a picture of to remember and cherish over time. Not only will I remember this sandbox in the future for all of my memories but I will remember the sandbox as a part of my home. Where theirs home there is always something to remember and cherish. Forever will my secret sandbox lay as a piece in my mind as the years go on and the sandbox gets older and older for others to love and remember as much as I did.