And a Happy New Year



It was all silent. But once the sweet sound of snoring began to come from under a speckled blanket, the clock’s hands began ticking quieter and it was clear that the grandfather had finally fallen asleep. A welcoming smell of fir needles was spread across the room, making it impossible not to notice a clumsily decorated but dazzling Christmas tree. It was half past seven, an hour before the mother would wake everyone up from a two-hour rest that every child needs in order to celebrate the New Year until dawn. 

Eventually, sleep conquered the children in spite of their reluctance (tears had been used to convince their parents that no rest was necessary for them). As they fell asleep, their presents had yet to be wrapped: in advance, parents prepare every gift to be put under a tree while the last minute of the year is expiring. At exactly 0:00, clueless but happy, the children will discover their treasures. But still, it is quiet; only the sound of a ticking clock and the rustle of wrapping paper can be heard in a house that waits for the New Year’s miracle. 

By Alyona Baranova

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