I live in the city and learned to ice skate at seven with a cousin on each arm. Ten we hit the middle of the pond and they let go. For a few seconds I was brave until I realized that I didn't know how to stop. When I came back to skate in my teens the ice was thin and my best friend fell in. It was my turn to help. We walked all the way home with our skates on because we were too cold to unlace them. I learned something about growing up that day.
PS This is my 74 yr old mother's letter. She reads every inch of all her magazines. Can't wait for this to be published. Thanks.