My Story About My Father 's Front Yard

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There is a story about me that my mother will tell to anyone who will listen especially those who mentions to her how dedicated or determine I am to something I believe in. The first time I heard her tell this story it was to my husband when he was complaining to her how much I talk about the children in my classroom; the second time I heard her telling the story to my youngest son when he was telling her how much he wished I would stop talking about the children in my classroom when I come home from work. This story is about how much I wanted to climb a tree that was in my grandfather’s front yard, this was an oak tree that stood about ten feet tall with limbs that was very high and one particular limb that was low enough and strong enough for me to sit and swing on. I would watch my uncle climb to the middle of the tree almost every afternoon when I come home from school. I would always ask him could I climb up and he would always say I could not, with my mother and grandmother echoing that same answer whenever I asked if I could climb “uncle Johnny” tree. Whenever my uncle, mom, or grandmother would tell me to stay away from the tree I would always tell myself one day I am going to climb that tree. Whenever I would get the chance to be outside without anyone watching I would try to climb up the tree to where my Uncle would always climb and sit. It took me about three months to finally climb to the branch where my uncle would climb, when I finally made it I sat there,

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