My childhood memories linger around the park where I used to spend most of my free time with my friends. After spending a long boring day, I eagerly waited for the evening to come so that I could play in my dearest park. We used to enjoy rides in the swing, take deep dives in the slides and flutter about all around the green grass like butterflies.

My happy days did not last long. I was away for some days during summer vacations. When I came back, I was startled to find that my park was being cleared using a mammoth machine. Slowly my park was disappearing and a new building was emerging in its place. My beautiful park which was draped in greenery gave way to a concrete structure.

My sorrow knew no bounds. My father consoled me that these constructions are inevitable as everybody needs a house to live in. He told me that instead of lamenting about the lost park, we could take initiative to make a new one near our building. He put up this matter with the residents association of our building. They readily agreed and we together made a beautiful park.

Now a great contentment and pride fills my mind, when I play with my friends in our new park. I learned a valuable lesson that there is no point in crying over spilt milk. What is lost is lost. We should think creatively and try to make up for the losses in our life.