My parents gave me wonderful memories to hold on to as I raise my children. When I was really young I had a white picket fence around my home. I had lovely roses growing around parts of the fence. And one of my very best friends was a red cardinal. I felt he was very handsome in his beard and red hat. I certainly loved how he sang to me. He always stood out in a crowd. He always caught the most attention. I remember those delightful days of playing in the dirt. I made mud pies in a pan and sold them to my poodle who never quite ate enough of it. On a hot afternoon in Arkansas, the roses and honeysuckle would blend their sweet smells, and the humidity would hang the scent decoratively in the air. The white picket fence was a symbol of home, and always was a lovely contrast to the canopy of greenery in our back yard. All in all these things meant home and home was a delight. I am truly thankful for these memories that my dear parents blessed me with.