This 4th of July we continued a tradition with new twigs on our family tree. We drug out the old train from the barn my husband made years ago from plastic 50 gallon drums. Each car has its own steering wheel. Try as they might, the cars never go their own direction–they just follow the rider in front.

I have only one regret; that he’s no longer here to watch the next generation enjoy something he so lovingly made so long ago.

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