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Soup Can Labels And Red Wagons My little three year old daughter, Celese, let go of my hand and rushed to the little red wagon. “Oh, Daddy. Can we get it for Christmas?! Can we?!” I could see the longing in her smiling face and her sparkling eyes, but when I looked at the $60 price tag, my heart sank. As a college student, I was doing everything I could, but I was barely able to earn enough money for my family’s needs. Besides teaching some classes, and taking care of race horses at nights and on Saturdays, I also did work at our apartment complex for part of our rent. I knew Celese had dreamed of having a little wagon for her and her sister. A neighbor boy had one that he hauled all sorts of things around in, but he was not about to share it. Celese had seen a picture of one in a colored Sunday ad and had kept the ad in her room, sleeping with it under her pillow. I keenly felt her disappointment when I told her that we couldn’t afford the wagon. 16