I was four, playing outside in the humid Kentucky air.
I saw my grandfather’s truck and thought, Granddad shouldn’t have to drive such an ugly truck.
Then I spied a gallon of paint.
Idea! I got a brush and painted white polka dots all over the truck.
I was on the roof finishing the job when he walked up, looking as if he were in a trance.
“Angela, that’s the prettiest truck I’ve ever seen!”
Sometimes I think adults don’t stop to see things through a child’s eyes.
He could have crushed me. Instead, he lifted my little soul.