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From HALF A CHANCE“Lucy, we're going to love this place!” Dad called to me from the porch of the faded, red-shingled cottage with white trim. “We can hang a swing right here and watch the sunset over the lake. And these country roads will be great for biking.”While my little dog, Ansel, explored some ferns, I took a deep smell of the pine trees lining the dirt driveway. “I'll buy you a new bike when I get back, Lucy. Would you like that?” Dad asked. “Maybe we can get two bikes,” I yelled to him. “So we can ride together.” “Great idea!” Dad always promises me things before he leaves and then forgets by the time he's home again. But I couldn't help having that little bit of “I hope so” that this place would be different. That's the thing with new beginnings – sometimes, they're more than just starting over again. Sometimes they change things. “There are more boxes in the van,” Mom said, carrying a laundry basket full of kitchen stuff past me and across the flagstones leading up to the front porch steps. “I'll get them in a minute,” I promised. “Ansel needs to stretch.” But really, I wanted to take my first New Hampshire photo before I went inside and everything got busy. Whenever we move, I take a picture as soon as we arrive. It always makes me feel a little braver, knowing that on some future day I can look back at that photo, taken when it was new and scary, and think, “I made it.” Like creating a memory in reverse.