Rus Articles Journal

Father Frost`s gift, or Once again about love of

Even at night it understood that tomorrow, i.e. already today, all - will come. It meant that again for the whole month they will remain with the daughter together. From this thought began is more disturbing to fight heart. For it, for such native, touchingly snuffling near by. For the baby whose long eyelashes so beautifully shake in a dream...

Even at night it understood that tomorrow, i.e. already today, he should say goodbye to the favourite little girls: the noisy laughter - the wife and the big-eyed fidget - the daughter. At heart it became restless, and all night passed in some disturbing drowsiness...

the Call of an alarm clock pulled out them from the shivering twilight of morning. The window was followed by snow. The daughter discontentedly began to whimper as if feeling nervousness of parents.

the Breakfast, collecting passed

in the silence ringing for nervousness which was broken off by laughter and babble of the daughter - tension fell down a little.

- Well, we will sit down on a path, - it told it routinely as if tomorrow will arrive though it was visible that these words are pledged hardly, hardly.

With the same work it held tears which foully shone in her big eyes...

She was by the window and looked at it, such big, beautiful, with a new suitcase in which it was so cheerful to play to the baby. At this moment she for some reason thought that if that`s it now she makes a wish, then it will come true. Also thought. To whether Father Frost, whether God, whether still to someone. The desire was simple to impossibility: to meet the coming New Year by all family.

When the daughter fell asleep, pulled in the Network. Mummies supported her loneliness, consoled. Someone advised to write the letter to Father Frost. Having grinned, she doubted interactivity of the Old man.

- For the sake of such business it will check your page, - the girlfriend assured...

It went on the white plain of the Kazakhstan steppe, wind blew, the handheld transceiver cracked. At work the blockage, reports, appear, went a never-ending stream, lagged behind the plan. At such moments there was a desperate wish home. To bury to the daughter in a cheek, to inhale a smell of her hair. He remembered that he from it so smells sweet a mother`s milk, and heart stood with love to the little man.

He dialed number which knew by heart nearly six years. The wife told it about tricks of the little prankish, about new things, weather. And he listened and heard only its voice through which sounds of game of the baby, her first syllables and words reached...

usual New Year`s Eve vanity with its purchases, gifts, packings began then

A. In series of noisy holiday days it was a little forgotten. Gifts pleased, packing attracted, the daughter with a laughter scattered toys, checked all packages.

Mother brought a fir-tree, small, “Soviet“. Its fir-tree. Dressed up it in silence.

Process carried away

, in soul bright children`s memoirs emerged: here she with the father decorates a Christmas tree, the real Father Frost here comes, here at the Snow Maiden the boot was undone...

From the childhood had to come back - the daughter broke a toy.

- For luck! - she managed to whisper...

the Call of the director was unexpected:

- Come to me.

without knowing

what to expect, it went along a long corridor, and evening shadows laid down fancy patterns on ceilings. Passing by windows, he saw the decorated industrial sites, an artificial Christmas tree.


to Him remembered the native wood with its smell of needles, a frost. It was remembered how they before departure rode the sledge as tops of Three Brothers grew white as snow sparkled on the sun. Cheeks were pinched by easy frost, the wife and the baby blushed, dark hair were beaten out from - under hats. An intolerable wish arose home.

- Well, my friend when on holiday there was a last time? Well - well... Gather, the thirtieth the plane...

When all gifts lay under a fir-tree, and the table was laid, she called it. Phone grumbled something about “out of an access zone“ and was switched-off.

guests - parents, friends Came. Finishing laying, rustled: dropped chairs, changed channels, laughed, children developed gifts, rustled with candy wrappers of candies.

At a door knocked with

. It opened. Heart fell a cropper and swept. It was on the threshold. Held a fir-tree branch in hand...

In the head a whirlwind scraps of thoughts of the made wish broken by the daughter for luck a ball, a childhood smell rushed. The heart began to fight more exactly, but nervousness was given by the flush which spread scarlet paint...

- With Coming! The surprise was ordered? - he, as always, hid the nervousness by a joke.

- Happy New Year! Ordered! - and it, carrying away it for a holiday table, hasty told that miracles come true...

in the Morning of New year three of them sorted gifts. Marishka sat at Roman on a lap, muttered to him something in the children`s language, showing toys. He smiled to it in reply, touched curls of hair, inhaled a smell of the daughter and understood: happiness nearby.

Lena quietly touched with

A a modest fir-tree branch and thought that the best gift for it is an execution of desire. This New year they met together!