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What Spring Means To Me by Pat Baiocchi

Spring is a delight but it can also be the cruelest of seasons. The saddest thing to see is an untimely frost hit tender blossoms to scar or kill them. I was born in April and as a small child I thought the flowers bloomed and the trees budded in honor of my birthday. When my birthday approaches now, I have to smile at how delightfully simple a child can be.

Originally Posted (Jul 01, 2002)

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