Every now and then, I reach for a white box hidden in the back of my bedroom drawer. I carefully take off the lid and immediately become enveloped in the familiar sights and sounds of my youth. My memories can be touched, held, looked at, taken out or hidden whenever my heart desires. What will my children have, though? What will remain from their friendships, their Holidays? What will their ‘box’ look like: Texts in a dusty corner of cyberspace? Images somewhere in the cloud?