Many years ago when we moved from London to this little village, I thought in my little boy's mind that we had arrived in Paradise. The wide open spaces were so different to NW8. However, all this was about to change as Summer gave way to Autumn and so to Winter. Whenever someone mentions the dreaded Winter season my memory goes back to the time I lived in this small mountain village between Wrexham and Corwen.

One night it snowed heavily and the wind came off the mountain and howled like a banshee, wailing, whistling and whirling the snow off the fields and into the roads, completely blocking communications. After a few days the farm animals were beginning to suffer, so in response to urgent requests by the authorities the RAF started dropping hay bales in the fields for the sheep and cattle, turning the exercise into practice bombing runs.

Unfortunately there were no plans to drop food for the human inhabitants. After about five days of this weather the village shop had completely sold out of food. Even the mice had left! There was a serious situation developing with regard to lack of food supplies in the village.

However, as in all situations 'Cometh the hour, cometh the man'. This man came in the shape of our Vicar, who was a dynamic powerhouse of a man. Slight of stature, he more than made up for this in determination. If you said 'Good morning' he would look at you as if to say 'How can I make it better for you?' If we wanted a village hall, he was instrumental in getting it. His church needed electric light - he got it by the most ingenious means, which is another story.

That was the situation then, the village needed food and the Vicar was never one to duck a challenge. So next morning he gathered about a dozen young men together with clean empty sacks and they set off for Corwen about seven miles away across frozen fields. Once there, he begged, borrowed or browbeat shopkeepers into giving them supplies, after which they made the return journey, arriving home just before nightfall. They called at each house in the village, making sure that each had something to eat.

After a few days a gradual thaw set in and within a week the grip of the wintry weather had slackened and conditions returned to normal. For those few days things had looked pretty serious, and but for the courage and determined leadership of the Vicar, who knows what the outcome would have been?

For me, whenever Winter weather and snow are mentioned - meaning six inches of snow on the road - I smile to myself and recall the 27ft snow drifts at the Deio crossroads on the Wrexham road out of the village and the complete blockage on the Corwen side.

And I was pleased to have known the late Rev. W. Roger Hughes, Vicar, Farmer, Councillor and Eisteddfod Bard of Bryneglwys.