She was our next-door neighbor and I called her Aunt Patti. Having neither a husband nor children, she lived alone and would often ask my mother to send me over to her apartment to keep her company.

I loved the visits to Aunt Patti's. She always had freshly-baked cookies or pies for me. Sometimes she would let me play with her precious doll collection, and I would be in awe everytime she opened the huge display cabinet where all the dolls were.

I remember the Christmas I spent in her place. I was her only guest. Nonetheless, she had all the Christmas foods on the dining table, all the gifts under the Christmas tree, all the lights outlining the windows. She gave me a pair of red winter boots as a gift. I have since passed the boots to my younger cousins.

For some reason, my family lost touch with Aunt Patti when we moved to another city.

Twenty years passed and I found myself one December day remembering about Aunt Patti. To make the long story short, I contacted her relatives and was given her address--she was now in Germany with her sister's family.

The card I sent her was simple. I just told her that I used to be her neighbor, and that I remember the Christmas that I spent with her. It was my way of saying thank you for making a child's Christmas memories so rich and meaningful.

At the start of the New Year, I was so delighted to receive a letter from Aunt Patti. She was 82 years old now, can't remember much, but was sure touched by the card I sent. She said that I seemed to be a well-mannered and kindhearted lady, and she is proud to have met me years ago. If only she could remember the details....

Her memory may have failed her but her heart is still alive, and that's what matters. I am glad to have touched her heart in her twilight years. She sure has left an imprint in mine as well.