Like I’ve said before, when I was a little girl, I used to spend quite a bit of time by myself. It’s not a bad thing. Although at times in my youth I would get quite lonely. Every once in a while my mom would suggest that I go on a picnic. She would pack me a lunch and I would ride our little red wagon down to the bottom of the hill that our house was on.
I would sit in the wagon next to the little creek at the bottom of the hill and eat my lunch. I never felt alone then. I would sing and eat and watch the water trickling down the stream. I would spend quite a bit of time there at the bottom of the hill. Noone ever came by, but it was almost as if the wagon became my friend. I would sit in the wagon in the sun until I got too hot, then I would move to the side of the creek in the shade. Every once in a while, a breeze would come by, adding to the experience. Finally, I would pull the wagon back up the hill to our home. It always felt so peaceful there in the little red wagon by the creek. I remember another time using the wagon as a sort of wading pool, plugging up the holes that were there for drainage, filling it with water, and sitting in it on a hot summer day. Awww, refreshing!! I loved our little red wagon. It’s too bad I got too big.