Seventy-five years and Counting
Each Sunday after lunch, my
family and I visited my grandparents. Our first stop was to my dad’s parent’s
house, an old prairie-styled home on a street lined with others similar to it.
While my parents chatted with my grandparents, my sisters and I climbed the
trees in the parkway, jumped off the front porch railing, and sang songs. As we
departed, my grandmother gave each of us a quarter and a package of M&Ms,
sometimes plain, sometimes peanut.
And thus began my love for the coated
chocolate candies with peanuts inside.
