When stopped at a traffic light, I can’t help but think of Fred. Every Friday, my father would pick me up from school. At the main intersection, Fred sold bouquets of flowers. If we ended up caught by the red light, Dad would always buy Mom some roses. Fred also handed out pins of St. Francis to all buying customers. Over the years, I developed a nice collection of pins. Then one Friday, Fred was gone. My parents later separated. Now grown, I still wish for Fred’s flowers and the look on Mom’s face those happy Fridays.
Comments are closed.
|
"Classic"
|