Mittens!

Dear Family,

  Yesterday, as I exited my place of employment, I walked
out into a winter wonderland. Snow covered all. My car was smothered
in the white stuff and the temperatures hovered in the low twenties.

While others shivered and reached for their snow scrapers, I boldly
strode up to my car and swept the white stuff off, scattering snow to
the east and west with my hands.

Was I cold? Did my hands get frozen and wet? 

NO! 

Fear not!  I had my .... MITTENS!

Yes, the very same mittens that my sainted little brother had
given me oh so long ago (30 years!). That same brother who diligently
saved the pennies from his allowance, shoveled snow, raked leaves and
stood on the corner selling matches in order to buy his ungrateful
siblings mittens for Christmas. 

Yes that little boy, Tiny Mikey we called him, worked his fingers to the bone

so that his brothers and sisters would not have to suffer frozen digits. 

And did we appreciate it?  Did we thank him?  NO! 

Well I for one, yea though it be thirty years late, repent. 

Thank you, Mikey! Your gift is much appreciated. Long may my fingers 

(so effortlessly typing this message) be warm -- thanks to YOU!
 

Your loving and many-fingered sister,
 

Lisa (2005)

PS  Did I mention he did all this by the time he was five?