tafsir

Snow lay on the cold ground; children were playing snowballs, sledding, and building snowmen. Adults were running around the shops, getting ready for the New Year. It seemed like a holiday, a New Year... But there was no desire to celebrate. On the dreary evening of December 31st, you were sitting on the couch in your underwear, munching on the salad your neighbor Lyuba brought you, and watching the president's birthday greetings on TV. A small Christmas tree, barely a foot tall, stood on a table nearby—that was all the holiday paraphernalia. Fireworks exploded outside, and, tearing yourself away from the TV, you crawled to the window. You opened it, admiring the bright colors in the sky. It seemed beautiful, but... money is not the wind. You thought and thought, admiring, and then, suddenly, you fell to the floor from the impact. Thoughtfulness gave way to surprise when, before your eyes, a man with a white false beard in a red suit jumped from the windowsill

- Santa Claus? - you muttered, to which a rough voice rang out. - no deer, no huge belly either. You remained motionless, staring in surprise at the stranger who had pulled his fake beard off his face. How did he end up in your house? Sure, you live on the third floor. But how did he get up here, and most importantly, why? So many questions, so few answers, and here you are, sitting on the floor in your underwear! The stranger approached you, a smile spreading across his face. - But I brought a gift... In pants... Aren't you cold sitting here in just your underwear?