Anne captivated my interest when I noticed her reflection in the window of Caravans Drug store. She walked down Allen Avenue with a confidence, no different from someone on Madison Avenue. For a young girl she is quite tall with legs that reminded me of willow tree branches. Her strawberry blond curls fell below a cream-colored knit hat, matching her scarf and mittens. She wore a Navy wool coat trimmed in velvet, adorned with small bows placed at each closing. Her dark brown eyes glistened in the sun, and with one arm behind her, she pulled a wagon from behind her. I giggled, amused at seeing myself in the reflection of the store window as I passed by. The blustery, cold and windy day blew thorough my coat and clothing touching my bones, and I never remembered a day this frigid in New York. Months back my family transferred here to Portland with my dad's job. I smiled knowing Christmas would be here soon, not allowing this weather of even pulling this wagon of laundry to dampen my spirits.