Memories of Christmas for me throughout the years have had special thoughts in an individual way. Even back then I was too inquisitive and not easily fooled! First of all there was  no snow in Miami, no chance to build replicas of Frosty, and definitely no cold blustery wind to make you feel that some fat man dressed in red from a different persuasion with reindeer would visit you. Early on I had notions of what Christmas really was from eyes well beyond my adolescent years. You see, I had problems sharing it with six other kids who more often than not, and invariably spoiling things whenever they could. Being the eldest kind of gave me free rein on 'first' things - like being the first to see mom and dad call themselves fooling us to believe that Santa really existed; and first to not fall asleep waiting for Christmas to come; and the first to ride the bicycle that had to be shared six different riding terms. Did I really believe in Santa Claus? I originally thought so until about seven years old when the cat was let out of the bag - literally! Back then one of the toys that Dad brought to place under the tree rolled out of his toy sack. From my vantage point under the stairs (which was a good hiding place) I had a perfect view. When I tell people that I remember verbatim what happened on that Christmas Eve they tend to look at me with jaundiced eyes, but I KNOW what I saw! I tried telling everybody that Daddy was really Santa Claus but quite a few people told me otherwise and several times I was threaten with whippings.