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I cannot wait until Spring. There is a longing in my soul for the warmth of the weather, the sound of the singing birds, and the smell of the blooming flowers. Not much longer now...........
The Hands of My Father
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My father’s hands were always dirty. As an auto mechanic, the grease and
grime of a thousand days never quite seemed to be erased. It was under his
nails...
8 hours ago
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