Friday, April 2, 2010

White glove's

Easter brings back childhood memories to mind. We would always get a new easter dress to wear for sunday morning, white tights, sunday shoes, a hat and white gloves. Mom had us all prim for the morning. After church we would always go out to a park for a picnic, and an easter egg hunt. By the end of the day our little white gloves were not so white ... Prim was no longer the word to describe us. We were stinky, dirty and happy as we took a bath and climbed into our pajama's dreaming about our great day and the memories the day held.
Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.

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