After I met your Grandpa in England during WWI, we moved to America and, because the people in New York told us that there were many Norwegians living in Minnesota, we moved to St. Paul. Our small family had a hard 'go of it' during the Great Depression as did all of our friends. However, each Christmas I loved making a nice wreath and hanging it on our front door; it always reminded me of my own mother so many years before.
One year when your father [John Victor Mickman] was about 12 years old, he came home from school and saw my nice wreath on the front door. He wanted to buy a Christmas present for me, and had an idea that maybe he could sell that wreath down the street to someone. Well, that is just what he did. He walked down Summit Avenue where all the rich people lived, until someone purchased this wreath. [My dad said it was James J. Hill's daughter, founders of the Great Northern Railroad, that purchased this first wreath.]
With his newly earned money, your dad went to a store and purchased a lovely set of porcelain figurines - the set that I have on my bedroom bureau. The sales clerk was kind enough to wrap this gift for your dad, and he came home and presented it to me. Well, I knew your dad didn't have ANY money and I pinched his ear until he told me how he got the money to pay for the present. He finally confessed that he had taken our wreath off of the front door and sold it down on Summit Ave. I couldn't imagine that anyone would want to pay money for such a thing, and asked your dad if he thought he could sell any more. He said he thought he could sell as many as I could make!
So, your Grandpa, your dad and I gathered as many boughs as we could and I made wreaths out of all the boughs we could find. Your dad was able to sell these wreaths as fast as I made them, and he sold every single one - we didn't even have a wreath on our own door that year [of 1934]."