Any doubts?

Anyone, who believes in Father Christmas, please do not continue reading, I might raise some doubts with this writing. 

It amazes me now though – what was I thinking when I was a kid and seeing so many different Santas during Christmas? Did I really believe in their existence? Although, to think about it, we weren’t allowed to celebrate Christmas during Soviet times and we actually didn’t have Father Christmas. It was Näärivana (Father Frost) who brought us presents in New Year’s Eve instead.

You could also meet several of Father Frosts when you went to see a Christmas, no, let’s say Children’s Winter play in theatre. At the end of the play quite a few old men with long white beards in red, and also blue coats would appear on the stage and the children were sent in groups to different rooms across the building accompanying one of the Father Frosts, so the kids could either recite a poem or sing a song to receive a bag filled with sweets.

It’s rather different here in the UK, where you can meet Father Christmas in their grotto or they (I should really say he, not in plural, because there’s just one Santa Claus, right?) come to visit the Christmas Fairs. There’s just one man who has to do the job for the night and gets really booked up and children along with their parents have to stay nicely in the queue waiting for their turn to see Santa close up, talk to him and get a present. But at least it’s one Santa at a time, not like I remember looking out of the window in anticipation of the visit of Father Christmas and saw lots of Santas roaming the streets to pay a visit to the homes of good children.

After the collapse of Soviet Union, we started celebrating Christmas again, but rather than Santa coming at night time and leaving presents for you to unwrap on the 25th (and because of that our kids wake up way too early!), in Estonia he visits every home on Christmas Eve and delivers gifts in person, and he still asks everyone to do something to earn the present. It was very easy when I was young, thanks to all the songs and poems I learned at school, but growing older, it became harder and more embarrassing, although at one point Father Christmas wasn’t even bothered of visiting us in person, just left the sack by the front door and rang the bell for us to know – it’s ready for collection! Ok, it was actually my Mum, who rang the bell when she’d finished with the wrapping and all the presents were ready in a sack. By that time none of us in our family (me being the youngest) believed in Father Christmas.

To be honest, first doubts about that old heavily bearded man who gives gifts, appeared when I was a little girl and was even scared of Father Frost. Obviously I was also pretty excited too and once when I heard the doorbell I ran quickly to the door, opened it... and saw him wearing MY DAD’S RED LEATHER BOOTS!!! I don’t think I ever really questioned why our Dad had to go to work every night when Santa was coming, but I did question why Santa was wearing my Dad's boots…

Scared of who is at the door...

And additionally on a similar note – this year it’s going to be crackers and turkey, although I do miss lighting the candles at the cemetery and eating sauerkraut and blood sausages. 

And to you all, my dear friends: Merry Christmas! Häid jõule!