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By Sara Ray

Many summers ago when I was still a young lass, daddy took us fishing while mommy was busy visiting a sick family. Daddy said the trout would be yummy he would catch today.

So we splashed and played in the stream, while daddy fished away. There was nothing he would catch on that warm and sunny day.

the younger boys grew restless, no longer wanting to splash between the banks. “Father,” one did say, “I want to fish like you.” Feeling a little frustrated for the fish that got away, daddy smiled and leaned his fishing rod against a tree to stay.

He helped my brother find a pole, this will do nicely dad did say, as he tied a line for fishing on the green Willow pole. A tiny hook to wrap a warm and sent my brother on his way.

I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t been there that day. My little brother caught the only fish using his simple Willow pole.

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