When I was a kid, and my father was in the Army, we lived in (what was then) West Germany. During my father’s time off we would travel throughout various parts of Europe, most often by train, and see some wondrous sights.

There are pictures of me in hideous red sandals standing in the model (sized) village of Rotterdam somewhere in the Netherlands. My mother regales us with stories of us kids swimming in the fountain that Julia Andrews flips her hands into in the Sound of Music. I remember castles, canals, windmills, and glorious cathedrals throughout our journeys. Times of laughter over my mother’s pronunciation of Liechtenstein and other seemingly unpronounceable names. My father, who spoke only English, thinking that raising his volume would make that poor Danish girl suddenly understand him. The fact that we traveled in leiderhosen that my mother ACTUALLY DID MAKE out of the curtains of our home…

You are doing a great thing and I hope my children do not become envious of yours, for they will have similar stories to tell.

Cheers,
JD Barrett

Thanks so much for sharing that wonderful story.