Memories of London

Reading someone’s article brought back fond memories of my family’s’ trips to London, England. Specifically, what I’m thinking about now are the times we were in a Tube (Subway, properly known as the London Underground) station with a long curving staircase down from one platform to another when we needed to change trains. Often, when my father would pick up one end of the stroller to carry it down, some random stranger would rush to help him so that he didn’t have to do it alone, or enlist one of his older children (we were pretty strong, having done it before, but being short back then it really was a help.) Said person would help, against my father’s protests, the entire way down and sometimes, offer to help us the rest of the way. It’s happened more than once, and it makes me smile.

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