I tried to think about the earliest story I can remember, but all I have are a few random memories. I know that when I was about three my parents took me to an old train caboose filled with small animals (bunnies, guinea pigs, etc). My parents have no idea what this memory is, so I can’t elaborate. I clearly remember that my father took me to fly kites frequently when I was about four-years-old. The day always began with a visit to the store where he bought me the gum that is rectangular, individually wrapped and sort of hard when you first start to chew. After the gum purchase we would go to a large park and he’d get the kite in the air while I chewed my bubble gum. At that point in my life, my father was capable of anything. He could make kites dance in the air and he was my hero. He could protect me from anything and nothing would ever happen to him. I hope the safety and security that I felt as a small child filled my own children when they were still young.