The Little Red Wagon Parade.

I was over reading a wonderful posting at the site of  a blogger friend whose story sparked a distant childhood memory.  Her story, Heads or tales, mentioned of a 'little red wagon' and I was instantly transported to a magical and bittersweet day, from so many years ago.  Dixie, at dcrelief , thank you for this inspiration.

I remember that day so clearly.  For it was the day of  'The Little Red Wagon Parade'.  Little children and their parents, lovingly adorned their wagons, to delight the onlooking crowd.   One by one, the wagons rolled by.  Little wagons covered in flowers.  Little wagons draped in streamers.  Little wagons with brilliant balloons.  The crowd cheered, the crowd applauded, as each little wagon, went by.
Then arrived this one little boy.  All alone.  A solitary figure.  No smiling proud parent, to pull him along, in his little red wagon.  I recognised him.  A quiet and shy little lad.  His little red wagon was not like the others.  No flowers, no streamers, no brilliant balloons.  Just a bit of wrapping paper flung over a rusty wagon.  We all looked on in hushed silence.  And then it began.  A gentle wave of clapping became a crescendo of deeply moving applause.  We cheered, oh how we cheered that little boy.
I looked around and noted the tears streaming down the faces of children and adults alike.  And as I look back at that childhood memory, I smile and I cry.  For that brave little boy and his determination, is forever etched in my heart.