I still remember that particular Saturday morning when Father taught me how to mow the yard. I was just 7, but Mom thought I was mature enough to perform the work.
Dad was an early riser. He woke me at the crack of dawn to begin my lesson.
He told me to wear my longest cotton socks, pulled up to my knees, with my well-worn tennies. It was important to get the work done before the heat of the summer day set in.
I remember excitedly jumping out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Until that time, I had never had the ability to earn an allowance like my older brother. I was
