I grew up in my grandparents farmhouse in a nice village, where the fields began and the river, called Upper Dew, with crystal-clear water started wandering. The area impresses us with its beauty, surrounded by hills, which stand there as guards, supervised by high mountains from the South. The weather is just perfect with four seasons, the earth is fertile, watered from the river and many artificial canals.
My grandparents were still young at that time, and had good relationships with our neighbors, most of them being somehow our relatives. The life was full of joy, peace and quiet, and I felt most loved and the happiest child in the world, running after the butterflies, watching the flight of swallows, playing with other children, and having a full yard of chickens, ducks, lambs, and pigs. The dog was the cleverest creature I've ever seen. He used to understand almost anything we were talking about, and obeyed our commands. Every single day there was interesting things, and if there is anywhere called paradise, it must be like this village and like the life at that time.
One of my first memories from this period was the Christmas Eve when I was 2 1/2 years old. I was so impressed, so I remembered everything as if it was yesterday. Of course, what I remember is Father Christmas's is visit. We knocked and entered through the main door, and all the guests entered the room where the Christmas tree was. I was too frightened -- first, because he looked too big with long beard and furry leather coat, holding a strong wooden stick, and second because he directed all his attention to me. I found myself near the tree, in front of the wall. He asked me for my name, how old I was, and then to sing for him. I did not cry, but I was having tremors. My legs, my hands, my voice were out-of-control. I tried to sing, but in fact, I repeated many times, just the first line of the song I knew best.
But this fear finished very soon as this old man's started giving me a lot of presents. As a first child in my grandfather's family. I had a doll, a small bicycle, a teddy bear, a lot of books and dresses. I was amazed. I relaxed with this so good man. I ask him to give me more. I noticed that he gave to the others only one present and I was very happy to have so many.
Then he asked me, 'Who doesn't listen and must be punished?'. I pointed to my grandfather, explaining that he very often lies and messing up the bed covers instead of sitting on the chairs. My grandfather to escape ran into the other room. It was a bedroom, and he lay down on the bed. It was proof that I was right. I said, 'You see, that's what he is doing!'. I did not have feeling that I shouldn't betray my grandfather.
Soon Father Christmas left, and I noticed that my mother's uncle was again amongst us. 'Were have you been Uncle George? Father Christmas was here, and only you were absent!' Many years after I was told that Uncle George had been in the role of Father Christmas. This was an event I would never forget.