As we walked into Hubbard Park, as we did every Sunday, my father would ask, "Do you think they know we're coming?" Of course he was asking about the Mallards that used the pond as their summer home. It was a little running joke my father and I had, as we would sneak like spies from tree to tree, to the lake to see how close we could get without our little friends noticing us.

In the fairly small-at that time-little Connecticut town I lived in until I was seven, you would know summer was right on your heel when you heard the Mallards sounding off their rank and file flying in from wherever they migrated to all winter. They had become dependant on the grain Mr. & Mrs. Warring, the nice old couple who used to live on the lake, would feed them. Mr. Warring passed away during the winter of '75 and his widow moved away to live with her son and his family. My father told me it was our responsibility to make sure they were fat and healthy for their trip home, he promised Mrs. Warring he would do his best to help the ducks after she left. When I said the couple wouldn't know

When I was a little older, and a member of the Boy Scouts, we did fund raiser to help an elderly lady get her house in order for winter. She was the organist for the local Catholic church, and took in foster children for most of her adult life. We used the proceeds to buy paint, a couple rakes, and some leaf bags. We painted the house that fall and cleaned up that autumn's scarecrow stuffing, and got to know that wonderful lady on a whole new level.

if we really went or not, my father was quick to let me know that in the end, when all else is gone, a man is only as good as his word. "You can lie to others but you can never lie to yourself," is something I heard many times as a child.

My grandfather taught me how to play chess when I was about twelve. He let me win once in a while for the first couple of years; slowly I got better and learned the skill of thinking ahead and not rushing into anything that can't be undone. Checkmate is checkmate. He would tell me, "If you're not getting better, you're getting worse." I believe this still and have shared it often. Before my grandfather passed away we had played several hundreds, possibly thousands, games of chess. I would even let him win once in a while.

While I was living in a new town out West, I was cooking at a restaurant and met my friend and future roommate. We were quite different, but soon became good friends. One day after work he asked me if I wanted to go somewhere, I don't exactly remember where but that's not really important. I told him I was broke and turned out my pockets to prove it. His reply was, " You are too good of a man to walk around without any money in your pocket. He then pulled out the thirty or so dollars he had-he was waiting tables- and gave me half. He is a good man and a great friend.

I'll take all of these memories, lessons if you will, with me when I'm gone; except for the parts that I've passed on to my son, nieces, nephews, friends, family, and everyone else who has gotten to know me well. Identity develops from what you learn and whom you learn it from. Identity just stops being yours in the end and becomes a part of others whose lives you've touched.

When thinking back about my childhood, one lady stands head

Some common words found in the essay are:
Boy Scouts, Hubbard Park, , Civali I'm, getting paid, you're getting,
Approximate Word count = 1508
Approximate Pages = 6 (250 words per page double spaced)