The Angels of Christmas Past

I spent my first 10 years of life in southern California. We were Catholic and our Parish was at a pink adobe/stucco looking church. I used to wish I could play the tambourine in the church band. My neighbor across the street was a pastor at the Baptist church. His daughter Diane was my babysitter and her two brothers were my best friends growing up. She used to take me to her church sometimes which was always so much fun. We would sit and listen to her dad's sermon while she took a cotton ball and tickled my arm for an hour. I never forgot that feeling and sometimes now I will tickle my girls' arms while we watch a movie. At Christmas, we would dress up like angels for the nativity/play. Our wings made from Reynolds wrap and cardboard. This is a pic of my sis and I as angels in Diane's church and also us with her brothers Gary and Greg. These boys are the reason I can skateboard, whittle a stick into a sharp knife, make a rubberband gun from scratch and kill bees with it, and are also probably responsible for half the scars on my knees! Between playing cops and robbers, army men, and matchbox cars, nobody would have ever accused me of being a girl.

Diane posted these pics on Facebook last night so I snatched them from her. I don't have copies of these so it was a nice surprise.