I remembered it before the New Year. December, I’m still a kid, I’m sitting in the kitchen with my older brother and mother. Here the brother says:

Have you already written a letter to Santa?

I look at him with amazed eyes:

Meaning of letter? How to write? And what will be? Where to put it? And what? And how? And why? ...

Brother: Just write a letter to Santa Claus, put it under the pillow and indicate there what you want as a gift for the New Year!

I: And that is all? Can I write anything? Anything at all? Even a helicopter? ? to



Mother with her eyes open does not have time to put in the words and brother continues:

Yes, whatever it is! This is Santa!



I happily flew to write a letter, not even paying attention to the possible further fight of my mother with my brother))



And here is the New Year, I climb under the tree, and there are gel pins with glitters! I asked them! Three blades of silver! )) My happiness had no limits. At that moment, I really believed in miracles.



Years later, I met again with my mother. 30 December. Me, mother, brother and his son.

I get up from the chair and say:

The Noble! Have you written a letter to Santa Claus?

My brother’s face stretched out.

You can write anything! Whatever you want, I continue.



My brother was not as fortunate as my mother. The tribe wrote “iPhone”. He was about 6 years old then. But he eventually got a chocolate in the form of an iPhone and other toys. No more letters to Santa Claus. I’ve been writing four years since the first letter. I stopped when I found all my letters in my mom’s closet.



Morality: To believe in magic, consider the possibilities of bathi.