Wandering around Lincoln Square Mall before dinner, I’m amazed to see how empty and quiet it is. Once upon a time, it was a busy, bustling place full of people. But now, it seems more like a desert than a bazaar.

When I was little, I remember coming to shop for clothes and begging my parents for a couple quarters to get a gumball. There used to be a jeweler’s, several eateries, gift shops, a couple clothing shops, a ballet studio, and even a mini-golf course. In the summers, the farmer’s market in the parking lot was a great place to obtain miscellaneous items, from freshly harvested corn to handmade glass beads.

If the shoppers had enough of the heat and sunshine, they would retreat to the air-conditioned interior and shop there. There was a great toy shop for the children — the main attraction was a train set where all the little kiddies played with complete strangers. I remember that shop in particular for its Hello Kitty block of merchandise and its tall, colorful sticker stand.

I remember participating in several performances there on behalf of my school. One particular event stood out for me — a string concert. In either grade school or middle school, I performed with many other young string players in front of a rather large audience. Being one of the younger performers and having no prior experience playing in an orchestra, I was stuck in the back and had little to no idea of what was happening.

It was quite confusing, since I don’t think the conductor knew quite where the students were on the pages of music. Then again, it was also rather unclear when a song ended or what song was being played, given that a couple strings were always squeaking and whisperings of “What song are we playing?” floated in the air while the conductor was waving his hands.

Lincoln Square Mall also brings to mind the mini-golf course, decorated with murals by several grade schoolers. During the spring break of my fourth grade, I was asked to come to school for a couple hours in the morning each day to work on three murals with three other chosen artists. We were asked to depict scenes from snapshots of local parks, such as Meadowbrook.

Working with huge boards the first time was a rather exciting. A large canvas, sticks of charcoal, some paints — life couldn’t get much better. So as a result of my giddiness, I ended up in an argument with a close friend of mine about where the street lamp should be placed — two inches to the left, or two inches to the right. We were finally separated by our slightly annoyed supervisor, the art teacher, who assigned us to start on opposite ends of the same mural.

We had breaks inserted every so often into our schedule. Our art teacher would bring snacks for us to share. She would also allow us into the forbidden territory — the teachers lounge. After we washed our hands, she would give us each 50 cents and let us into the lounge to buy soda pop from the vending machine. Then we would go back to the room and relax to the tunes of the Q-96 station. That was when I was first exposed to pop culture. And to this day, Sarina Paris’ “Look at Us” and ATC’s “Around the World” are still embedded in my memory.

When we finally finished repainting half a small river with a different shade of blue (for we didn’t mix enough of a pigment and the second batch was a shade too light), tweaked all the minuscule details, and quibbled over who the people were in the murals, we finished with an extra day left. Since our teacher had promised us a reward if we finished early, she brought in a canvas for each one of us and told us to paint whatever we wanted on them. I still have that painting, though it hasn’t seen the light of day for the better part of several years.

Now, the Lincoln Square Mall seems to be a deserted area. Provided, Art Mart, a Hallmark, an Illini sporting goods store, a candy shop, a restaurant, and an exotic gift shop are there. But when I see the stores closing at 8 on a Friday evening during the holiday shopping season, it makes me kind of sad to see this once populous and cheerful place so empty and hollow. Like a brilliant jewel that lost its luster.