I want to dedicate this post to a door with a special meaning for me. It’s not a beautiful door, not even a massive door and it is without frills. It’s a typical main entrance for a building of the sixties, made with a metal frame and large glass windows that are almost always dusty and marked with the fingerprints of children who can’t reach the handle. It’s the front door of the block of flats where I grew up and so it has a personal, special meaning for me. A big entrance all in white marble, great for skidding along the slippery floor, to hide in the cupboard under the stairs, or to race to be first to the lift. Terrific fun! In front of this all-glass door was the meeting place for us kids. There were at least twenty of us, and we played together on the sidewalk, while our mums chatted on the bench.In winter there was a lot of snow and our dads shoveled and put out the salt. For us kids the snow set up a kind of tunnel, from the door to the street, and we used it as a trench in the snow ball fights. In just a few minutes, from the bank to hairdresser, many snowmen would suddenly appear! We also used the sledges even though the only downhill has a slope of 5%! In the summer we would also meet in the evening; sometimes our mothers brought ice-cream! Then we played hide-and-seek, or some other game … That door saw me countless times as I went to kindergarten, to school and finally to work. Now I pass through it to visit my mum; sometimes I miss those days and think of them with good memories.