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Being raised poor; i cant remember much about the wagon my family had. But i remember bits & pieces of using a red flyer wagon. I remember us neighborhood kids using a wagon to haul bottles around; that we were collecting for the deposit money. We wanted to buy candy & sodas with the money we got. Then there were times we just road in a wagon. We had to take turns pulling each other. There were some steep hills to climb. But it was worth the wait for my turn. Seems as i got older; on emc situations i used a wagon to pull my clothes to the laundry matt, when i had no ride. I used a wagon when i could find one to haul my plants around to do gardening. Last, is the most value meaning in a vision i had once. I saw a wagon coming down through the mid air. The meaning of wagon is "Knowledge". Since then i have received much knowledge. I have even used a wagon to pull books! Every kid should have a wagon in their life time. Should i win; i would like them to be split up between every county hospital in the state of Fl., starting with my county. If not... I choose the Salvation Army.
I'm one of three children my older sister was born with CP and Ms. I grew up in the seventies with my sister in a wheelchair all her life still in it when we were children we would put her in are little red Radio Flyer wagon and walk around for hours. I'll never forget the joy in her face as we drug her everywhere we went in a wagon. As a child it was awful hard to push a wheelchair in some of the places that we went and we could get that little wagon everywhere. My sister was able to fish for the first time in her life cuz we could put it in the wagon get her to the lake. My brother and I took her everywhere in that wagon you see she looked as normal as us without the wheelchair. No I'm not ashamed of my sister never have been never will be but other kids could be so mean. That little red metal wagon meant a lot to us. I'm sure it's somewhere in my mother shed. Oh we we're not rich but we sure felt like it. That wagon was a big part of our childhood. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to tell you my story. My sister is 57 years old now and is lived way past what she was expected to thank goodness. For the love of Mildred is pure and innocent.