I was abused by my parents!  They never enrolled me in cotillion, paid for sports lessons, sent me to summer camp or boy scouts nor acquired special tutoring. Due to the depression, I was compelled to wear cast down clothing from my older brother. Even worse, to arrive at school we had to trek one mile accross open fields, even during Wisconsin winters. Our path included  crossing a long railroad trestle. Had a modern day social worker known that our walk was accompanied only by older siblings, she would have accused my parents of child endangerment.  Yet, I ask myself, in face of such a deprivation, how did my life turn out so well.

In reality, I was raised in a rural environment by caring parents. I was surrounded by an extended family of uncles, aunts and cousins. Nor did I ever lack for food, warmth or shelter. Certainly, feeling deprived was not part of my agenda. In fact, the retrospectroscope continually tells me that despite the economic limitations imposed by the depression, I enjoyed a richness rarely experienced by most conteporary children. I will touch upon that topic in my next blog.
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