On a Haywagon

Amazing how a memory can stay with you.  Also I feel so lucky that one of my fondest memories was memorialized in a photograph.  Thanks Dad. ( I believe he was the photographer, at any rate. )
The back of the photo is stamped "Aug 10 1950" which means I was exactly 5 years, 5 months and 1 day of age when I took this unforgettable ride on a hay wagon up into the hills behind Aunt Bridge's farm in St. Joseph, Pa.  I remember it clearly.  I was thrilled and excited to be on such a major excursion. I was unafraid and in my glory. I remember feeling that I was special to this handsome young farmer.  I was being cared for and protected and this was a impression that became forever imprinted in my heart and soul.  It makes me realize that young children are highly pliable and receptive to the adults who interact with them.   That summer afternoon so many years ago this young, caring farmer was a mirror for me.  In this mirror I could to see that I was sweet and worthwhile.  I could feel that I was safe and sound under his protection.  I was given a wonderful memory and a priceless gift.  I'm guessing that he had no idea of how his small act of kindness remained a part of me forever.