I was four years old when my parents moved from Raleigh, N.C. to the mountains. Like most four-year-olds, I didn’t have a lot of say in the matter. No one asked me if I wanted to leave behind my little sandbox, and the green bean vines under which I'd found a bunny, or my Strawberry Shortcake-decorated room. Dad got a new job. We were moving. I didn’t get to say no, but my parents did their best to involve me in the ... Read more