I remember how in childhood the smell of tangerines was a signal: "It's time to write a letter to Santa Claus!" And a letter is not just a text, but a strategic plan. First, the introduction: "Dear Santa Claus, I've been good all year...". (Although I knew perfectly well that you can't lie, I somehow didn't want to risk the gifts.) Then came a section with requests: "Please bring a doll, candy, and a dog." (The last point was traditionally ignored by Santa Claus, apparently due to an allergy to wool.)
And the Christmas tree! Decorating it is a whole family ceremony. The first thing to do was to untangle the garland. It felt as if this garland had been deliberately folded last year in the style of a “ball of nerves”. But what joy when the lights finally light up! And then comes the turn of the glass balls. As a child, I was sure that they had magical powers: if you look into a shiny ball, you can see how Frost is already hurrying on his sleigh.
And, of course, New Year's parties. Oh, these carnival costumes! Once my mother dressed me up as a bullfinch. Yes, a bullfinch. While other children were bunnies and snowflakes, I proudly showed off in a red apron with black wings. Everyone asked: “Where is your grandfather the snowman?” Since then, I suspect that my mother had a hidden goal - to distinguish me from the crowd at any cost. The festive table is a separate epic. As a child, I loved to cut “Olivier” salad and steal peas from a jar while my mother was turned away. But the culmination of the evening was always the battle for tangerines. For some reason, in our family they instantly disappeared from the plate, so we had to develop a whole operation to capture the “citrus trophy”. But the most important thing is waiting for the chimes. We all sat in front of the TV and, to the sounds of a festive concert, began to prepare glasses of “Duchess”. For some reason, adults always laughed when I tried to keep up with them in the tradition of raising toasts. Adulthood seemed magical to me then: when I grow up, I will also sit with champagne and smile mysteriously. Now, of course, New Year is not only tangerines and garlands, but also a little fuss. But as soon as you light the Christmas tree lights, that same little bullfinch girl wakes up in your soul again. And even if Santa Claus still ignores the point about the dog, he gave me the most important thing: the ability to enjoy the little things and believe in miracles. Maria.