Just listening to Pandora and Mark Knopfler and just was reminded of things from childhood. Things remembered such as trips to Cherryfield and the dropping a wreath of remembrance off the bridge honoring those who lost their lives in war. Or the maypole dance to celebrate the arrival of spring. Of school plays. Our wonderful 4 room school, grades 1 through 8. Prayer in school, starting each day. Corn chowder at lunch for 25 cents. Franklin was one of those typical New England towns, green, welcoming, with a flag flying and the white church steeple visible above the trees. Winters were cold, but he home fires burned warmly. As a child there were many things to do, adventures, from following a stream into the woods in search of wild trout, sledding on Blueberry Hill, picking wild berries in summer, trips to the ocean and shore, finding arrowheads in the garden soil. Times spent gathering hay and riding on the horse drawn hay wagon. There was so much, e didn’t know we were poor. Life was a struggle at times, but we were family and we had community. So many memories.

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