A Spoonful of Sugar...

My parents were field workers when we first came to the states and I have fond memories of Carlos and I sitting on the tailgate of the station wagon while my mom and dad picked vegetables - working sunrise to sunset in the Minnesota fields.
 

Our only toys?
Rocks and dirt from the gravel road.
 

Then, as we came of elementary school age, my dad got "educated" (well... he went to a vocational tech school for automotive mechanics) and he was hired on by the uranium mines near Casper.
 

We moved from our white farmhouse (which we rented on the farm we lived on) to a trailer in a mobile home unit in Casper.
 

But, for us... it was moving UP in the world!
 

We had neighbors! Kids to play with. People to watch.
 

BUT...
 

It came with it's own fair share of danger, too.
 

There were now cars to be on the lookout for.

Dogs on the loose...

One day a large German Shepard chased us... barking HORRIBLY loud. We were SO frightened... mom took us inside and fed us each a spoonful of sugar.
 

Never knew why.
 

But, I CLEARLY remember the tears and sniffling quickly subsiding that afternoon.
 

The way Carlos and I looked at one another when she brought out that Tupperware dish... opening it up and he and I realizing what was happening.
"Are... WE... getting a SPOON FULL of SUGAR???"
 

Even now, it brings a smile to my face and my eyes swell as I think of the love my mom shared for us - daily.

"Love you, mom."