Christmas memories are most precious. As a young girl I lived on a farm on Webster Road. Dad always cut our pretty Hemlock Christmas tree from our woods and I would always pick some winter green berries from the side of the gulf. The week before Christmas in the evening, the neighbor children would go out caroling. One of the neighbors had a one horse open sleigh with "bells" on it, so if we got tired we would ride for awhile. (Hardly ever got tired). The winter of 1944 and 1945, the snow was very deep. It was deep enough we could touch the power lines from the side of the road.