My First Memory

My first memory is of my older sister and I in our old house in Pittsburgh.  I can remember her putting pillows down on the hard floor at the bottom of the staircase.  Her and I would then take turns jumping off from stairs to pillows until she decided to jump off of the third or fourth step.  When I saw that she could successfully land I knew I wanted to try just as my big sister had, only when I landed, I was hurt.  My mom quickly took me to the hospital and it turned out that I had broken my femur, and was put into a body cast that reached to my knee on one side, and covered my foot on the other.  I will never forget what was not only my first memory, but also my first broken bone.

Although my little sister is not in this picture, it is a family photo from when I was younger.