The Marjorie I was named after died of scarlet fever before reaching her seventh birthday. She was Mommy's older sister. My middle name Anne came from Anthony, Dad's brother who died of a ruptured spleen at age seven after "a mean boy pushed him into an excavation". The Marjorie I was at seven may have absorbed these stories. Atop the hill behind our house I was appalled to find a gravel pit. Cousins Kenny and Bon had mumps so couldn't come to Grandma Ribbens' for cake and ice cream. But life was good. Our grandmas kept us well dressed; Auntie Ruth was our fairy godmother. I knew the way to school and church, didn't miss what we didn't have-- neighbors, television, pets. The Bobbsey Twins were my ideal family. Mom closed my baby book that year with "Likes school" and Mrs. Kramer gave me A's in Bible, Reading, Spelling and Arithmetic; B's in Penmanship, Art, "Personal and Social Traits" and Conduct. God, we mourn the fears, hurts, judgments passed on to kids and grandkids. Give us more chances to walk or read with seven-year olds.