Artem Mozgovoy
The year begins with winter. A faint, barely-breathing feeling that something is rising from the earth — something already lives, while something else is only awakening, only being born into this world through the heavy layers of ice and cold.
Vasya sat by the window, feeling a little sad. Because of the freezing weather, he couldn’t go anywhere, not even out for a walk with his friends. Suddenly, into his room stepped… Winter herself! She was mysterious and cold, yet in her eyes burned a love for life.
— Listen, Winter, I just don’t get it, — said Vasya. — Why are you so cold? I want to go out, to have fun, but you just ruin everything!
Winter smiled softly, lowered her gaze and replied:
— Silly boy, how can you not understand? When a child is born into the world, he doesn’t walk, run or talk right away. At first, he simply looks through the window, discovering the world outside. He begins to know himself, to see that the world is vast and beautiful. But he is still too small to fully enjoy life — he needs time.
— Time… A whole three months… — Vasya muttered.
— Only three months, — Winter said gently. — Winter is the chance to start valuing warmth, but cold is useful too. Don’t you drink lemonade with ice, eat ice cream or ride down snowy hills under the sun?
— Well… yeah. I guess you’re right.
— Of course I’m right. At the very least, I know my own worth.
— I suppose you often hear people saying mean things about you, — Vasya added quietly.
— I don’t listen to them, — said Winter. — I look at people’s faces and I see what they truly worry about. They have too many burdens of their own — and I have mine. I won’t stop being Winter, even if some people don’t like me. But I can choose to be a good Winter, the way I want to be. Once, I was just a little girl, and the title of Winter was passed on to me.
— How did that happen? What changed you?
— I once fell into a snowdrift and nearly froze… but after that, I found the strength to go out every winter, to play and roll in the snow. I realized the snowdrift wasn’t to blame, and one foolish mistake shouldn’t become the cause of countless fears. That was when I learned to love Winter — and then Winter learned to love me in return.
— Wow… Thank you, Winter. I’ll never forget this, not even in summer!
Winter laughed again.
— Silly boy… in summer you will remember me most of all. Farewell, little Vasya. Be careful with snowdrifts, but if the sun comes out, don’t miss the chance to play with them…
Main photo by Andrej Lišakov
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