My Dad came home from World War II and I was 4 1/2
years old. I did not remember this tall thin man that
everyone kept saying was my Dad. I was 6 months old
when he went to war and several Aunts, Uncles and my
Paternal Grandparents took care of me in his absence.



My birth Mom found that being a Mother at her tender
mid-teen years was too much to deal with and she left me
in the care of my Dad's folks.



I liked this tall man immediately and found myself enjoying
his big smile and easy, hearty laugh. He lifted me high into
the air at times and pretended to drop me. This took my
breath away and I would giggle in jubilation. Oh how
quickly I learned to love this man.



My little face just lit up when I saw his face or heard
his voice. He used to take me for walks along the single
gauge railroad tracts that ran behind our home. My
Dad was a railroad man working for the Pennsylvania Rail
Road as were his two brothers and his Dad.



Upon finishing his work for the day, he would come home so
dirty from coal dust and soot from the trains that he looked
like a raccoon upon taking his safety goggles off. My
little girl eyes thought this looked so funny and after he
became clean again, he would frequently take me over the
hill, across railroad tracts to a little store/gas station
where they sold ice cream cones, penny candy and had one
tall skinny looking gasoline pump that served the
neighboring area.



Ice cream was a really big treat to me, especially on a hot
day. I rarely licked the ice cream, but bit into it as if it
would fade away. I loved vanilla better then the chocolate
or strawberry flavors. If I mis-behaved, all that my
Daddy had to say was ..No Ice Cream tonight and I
straightened my attitude immediately.



Being an only child with all adults around, I got my way
most of the time and like any child, I used this to my
advantage. I know we had little money, but somehow, I
always received several gifts for all special occasions.
I didn't realize it then, but now I see my Dad's love
and the love of his people for me.



I was indeed blessed with many material possessions as
a pre-school child and even after my Dad presented me
with a new Mommy, I remember of my paternal Aunts
and Uncles making sure that birthdays & holidays were
special to me.



Over my growing up years, I often told those who cared
for me that I loved them, but Ohhhh, how I wish I could
hug them once again and thank them for their kindness
to me. Their love and kindness was not in vain for I
learned as an adult that Jesus gave them to me to show
all that love and comfort and it allowed me to see the
love Jesus has for his children of which I am one.

Ann Marie Fisher
© 2007