Ladybug, ladybug… In my childhood, they are magical creatures to make wishes by. My grandparents’ garden was part vegetable garden, tended by my grandfather, a small flower garden bordering the back porch, tended my grandmother, and a apple, plum, cherry orchard, tended by Mother Nature. Ladybugs abound in that old garden.
My sister and I would try to get the ladybugs to crawl up onto our fingers. We’d close our eyes. Make a wish. And gently blow on the ladybugs. When we opened our eyes, the ladybugs were gone, and their absence indicated our wishes had taken flight. It was only a matter of time before they would start coming true.
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