It’s me, Vasile. Most probably you don’t remember me any more, because I’m a grown-up now, and I don’t belong to the nicest. This is why I’m not asking you for anything, I’m not worth it, probably you’ve seen me drunk or fighting with Maria, my wife. That’s it, I can’t control myself too well. But you have to know I’m thinking of you every winter and this brings enormous pleasure into my heart and my soul, because you are one of the few who is always giving, just giving and asking nothing in return.
Today we worked hard. All three of us, I mean even our child. We started in the morning baking gingerbread with yeast, flour, eggs and whatever else Maria puts in there. Did you ever see, dear Santa, the trees smelling of Christmas? The ones which bark we use in the mulled wine? Jeez, the world is so amazing!
I like gingerbread, it‘s sweet. And more than this, you can hang it onto the Christmas tree like globes, never breaking globes that you can bite and nobody considers you a freak eating globes. (Hope you get my point)
Veronica, our neighbour from the other side of the kitchen wall gave us some special plastic forms to cut the dough in the shape of Rudolf and Santa, specially bought from Italy. So we started cutting the dough. We had a lot of Santas and reindeer like the ones that fly your sledge above us and under us if you start your journey in Kiribati like New Year. I’m afraid to fly.
Because they were delicious, we saved some for you. Hope you will enjoy them.
I got emotional now. I’m surrounded by Carols, outside it is snowing and inside I’m pleasantly heated (good stove). I will drink some wine. I wish you could join me. How on Earth you can enjoy the same music every year? And which miracle helps you not getting tired of us?
DON’T wonder when you’ll see little uneven holes like eyes in the gingerbread. THEY ARE EYES! My child made them with his fingers thin like matches. He just stuck them there. He still doesn’t know where they really should be. And you can laugh. Yes, you can laugh, you might see some even next to Rudolf’s tail or pardon me, Santa’s butt. And please, please dear Santa, make these eyes growing. I will send you cookies every year. And with the help and will of God, when we will see them completely grown, nice round and in the places where they really belong, make them be small and childish again. This is the way the story goes round. This is the way the story is special.
I couldn’t hold myself, dear Santa, I have to ask you something. Take care of gingerbreads’ eyes. Be sure they’re gonna be there every year! Only in this way they will see the miracle of Christmas!
Yours with love,