Moving Day.

I had to finish my carrots, or I couldn’t go with my family. I hated carrots, or whatever it was they gave me to eat. But when Dad put the family in the black car, I knew I better eat what was in the bowl. I hurried, but Mom and Dad and their car went off. I ran to the door, and watched as they left. I don’t know if I cried, but how would you feel if you were little, and you had to finish your meal before getting in the car.

We were moving to Kentucky. Dad, and Mom wanted me to finish my meal, because we were going to get to Kentucky that night. I needed to be full, and then I could sleep. The car came around the corner, and stopped at the house. It was Mom and Dad. They came to get me, and I said, “I finish my bowl.” They carried me to the car, and we drove with my baby sister and my other sister to Kentucky. I never forgot being left like this. It is called rejection, and it was the first instance I noticed.

There is a mental picture I have of a real picture of us girls. We are lined up for the picture. I am looking down, because my shoe is in sight, but I don’t have that one on. This is typical of what I was like. I was always looking for my shoes, socks, or what I needed. Everyone else had their things.

 

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