Let It Snow, Let It Snow
By Miriam Herwig

As the snow mounds up above our windowsills like sleeping polar bears, memories come trooping back of the good old days when all the fields, pastures and roads were our playground.

And a good thing it was that there was absolutely no expense involved for all this fun, because these were the Depression days.

In the first place, we dressed for the occasion, as close to the sitting room stove as possible. We began with union suits, all-in-one long johns, and someone would be sure to mutter, "He thought he was a confederate but he wore a union suit."

Next came long stockings, chocolate-colored in my case, a flannel petticoat, and heavy wool skirt and sweater, to be topped with woolen ski pants when we hurried out to play.

Home-knit mittens, scarves or tippets, and hats or "tukes," as Yankees pronounced the French "Toques," combined to keep us warm, no matter what the weather. On our feet we wore overshoes, just as the name implies, over our shoes. They were black rubber with four sets of buckles to keep them snow-tight. Galoshes, older folks called them.

From dawn to dusk, every minute not spent on chores or in school, was enjoyed outdoors. We would even go sliding at night when the moon was full.

Our sleds had metal runners which stuck out behind, and I’m not the only one with a scar on my leg to attest to their sharpness. But what exhilaration they brought as we glided down crust-covered hillsides or hard-packed country roads!

In the long, dark evenings, there were games like Parchesi, Flinch, Authors, or Old Maid to play. After all, we had no homework until we reached high school, and none of us seemed to suffer from the lack of it.

In my family, we lined up in chairs by the big kitchen stove while my Dad was eating supper. Then my Mother would read aloud from thrilling books like "How the West Was Won" or "Black Beauty."

Grownups had their own way of enlivening winter’s monotony; they gathered regularly in neighborhood homes to play cards—Whist and 88 Pede being some I remember.

Even though we had to put Sears catalogs under our feet to prevent chilblains at school, and freestones provided the only heat in our drafty bedrooms, we accepted winter with a grin as an indispensable part of our lives.