I feel like a puppet, a doll with wooden legs.
I have to lift my knees very high to move, it's like they were connected to strings. My feet hurt. I want to step out of my wooden shoes but my mother will not have it. Underneath both my wooden shoes sticks a big lump of snow. That lump is three times higher than my wooden shoe. I can't get rid of it. You have to strike a fence with your wooden shoe but it doesn't help. This is the fence of aunt Rens. Luckily she doesn't see me. Then I decide to take my wooden shoes off. Now I can walk again but my feet are getting terribly cold. Cold feet also hurt. Mrs Tulp on the other side of the street wages her finger. I put my wooden shoes on again. But I don't succeed. With every step more snow sticks to the wooden soles. I sit down. That's no solution and I have to get up again. Now a stand on one leg and with the other foot in the air. I take the wooden shoe off that foot. I nearly tip over. I don't know what to do. I have to put on that wooden shoe again. I have to get home. Step by step. Now I pass the house of the doctor. There is no fence to hold. His wife at the window looks at me but doesn't help me.
Then I get to fence of our neighbour. Now I'm almost home. I take my wooden shoes off for a moment.
I do hope my mother will not see this. I reach to our frontdoor but I have go through the alley to the backdoor for we never use the front door. Another few steps. Wooden shoes on. The door in the fence is open. In the garden I can hear my brother and sister laughing. They are stepping through the snow with their feet high up, tumble down and having fun. I do not understand this. My legs give way and I sag down like a puppet with it's strings cut.

Childhood memory by Marie Roelofsen April 19 1997