We can feel the cold winter air circling around our bright red cheeks while the snow gently falls from the heavens to the cold wet ground. Under our snow pants our long underwear itches against our tiny pale legs, but mostly we don’t even notice because we are holding our sleds and standing as tall as warriors atop the perfect hill. READY? We say, as we stand looking around at one another, each of us thinking we will easily be the winner this time. GO someone shouts from a distance and we run, we run and giggle and full force fall until our bellies meet the plastic of the sled. The fresh snow shoots up, over and around us and we are free, flying down this mountain of a hill just grinning and laughing. The end nears as we all one by one cross the imagined finish line then roll off the front of our sleds into the piles of frost and bounce off one another. We hoot and howl while still half buried in the fresh snowfall not knowing who the actual winner was but all assuming it was oneself. The adults would stand near the front door watching us and laughing at our silly behavior. We were children, all cousins and we were set free on Christmas eve with our brand new sleds every year. Our family would gather out in the woods right off the river at my auntie and uncles house where family had more of a meaning then the dictionary could ever describe.