Everyone is waiting for miracles

    Have you ever thought of winter to be a magical season? If you haven’t then I suppose you are too pragmatic since the early childhood.

    As soon as November begins gradually overflowing into December and the first snowflakes touch soft children’s cheeks and their pug noses, the gloomy city turns into a fabulous fairy tale.

    ‘What terrible weather!’ I hear everywhere. ‘That’s so cold, disgusting indeed.’

However, let’s have a look at the children which are playing snowballs, making snowmen and building snow forts: watching them, we realize how little we need for happiness. People are absorbed in daily routine so much that we forgot this simple rule: learn enjoying the ordinary things to be happy.

    Several weeks ago my little brother asked me ‘When does New Year come?’

    ‘In about two months, darling’ I told him.

    ‘Oh, still it’s so far’ he replied ‘It takes a month of Sundays, this waiting’

    ‘Is it really so far?’ I thought ‘It’s much closer than it seems to be. A couple of months ago we were walking at the park and eating ice cream. And now we can already skate the ice slide. This year is coming to the end. Life is running so fast.’

    That evening I was returning home from the university by my usual route. The thoughts captured whole my attention. Suddenly I saw the blue sparkles on the trees. They were shining so brightly that I couldn’t have noticed them. These marvelous little stars were lighting the street. Garlands! They are turned on only in winter. Super-Duper! New Year is coming! My soul was warming with joyful hope about some kind of happiness. I don’t know why, but it’s intrinsically for people to believe in miracle and always wait for it. Probably, when something is not OK and we lose our hope, we need a thing to believe, for not to give up.

    Last year was rather difficult for me; I had a goal to achieve which I needed lots of moral power and support. And the Dame Nature herself gave me hope for best.

Before I realized this, everything seemed terrible. There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the sofa and howl. Although I tried to take things on the chin fears were predominating. His Majesty Pessimism wanted to grab me with his tenacious paws but I tried to push him back, panting.

    Having come home, I lighted gas stove and put a kettle on it. While it was heating up, I exerted myself to warm up; I was looking at the window and watching the whirling snowflakes. Miraculous weather. Here’s my hot chocolate. And cold snow's behind the window. It looked like marshmallow. It seemed to me if I put a cup under the snowfall, some snowflakes would fall into my chocolate and they would be insensibly dissolving, leaving white patterns after themselves.

    Poor winter! Having grown-up, people depreciate all the miracles you do. In former times, they enjoyed you, not being able for you to come. And now… Now they are in a hurry to fulfill their own concerns. Only children know all your secrets.

    Every winter they are waiting for New Year and for Christmas presents, for kind Santa Claus and his hard-working elves. For green shaggy trees, covered with snow. For lighting bright garlands hanged throughout the city. They are waiting for winter miracles.