Linor Goralik. Five stories about the Christmas tree

Leaving on New Year's vacation, COLTA . Ru made sure that you had something to read on long holidays. With coming!

... Here, say, a good girl U. seven years tells her parents that in the New Year's performance she will play a snowflake - one of eight. Mom buys a white dress with open shoulders and a short magnificent skirt, harvests shiny hairpins, buys a silver rain for her hair, decides that she will give her daughter to put on her pearl thread, finds her premature photograph, where she herself is a snowflake with a retired leg and pursed fingers. In a word, a sentimental moment. It lays everything on the couch, is packed to dress up a child. "Mom, what are you!" - says a good girl W. indignantly. And he explains that snowflakes should have a modest blouse, a long skirt, and a handkerchief on his head. Because snowflakes are like the brides of Santa Claus, they should be very modest and innocent and devote their lives to good deeds, and they no longer need any other grooms, so snowflakes can not be beautifully dressed up. The mother of a good girl U., being in some stunning, decides that on the eve of the matinee she, of course, she will not scandal, quickly selects something that long and closed, persuades her daughter at least tie this same handkerchief as if he is a hair ribbon, and the entire morning looks at other snowflakes, painted and fusive, quietly tormenting the teacher to clarify sources Indocation. The teacher seems to be a dream or a spirit - and, it seems, is not lying. A good girl U. her outfit seems to be completely satisfied and generally spends time perfectly. And in the evening, mom asks a good girl U. - Very carefully: "Baby, but tomorrow you will go to the Christmas tree to the theater - what will you wear?" - “Oh, I’ll put on a golden dress, and throw it on me on my head, like a pigtail and like that, a pigtail here is high, and give me my earrings with brilliant butterflies!” “Baby,” says mother, “is it all possible for the bride of Santa Claus?” “It seems to me,” says a good girl W., shrugging her shoulders, “I fulfilled my duty.”

***

... Here, let's say, a good boy D. for sixty -three years old tells how he had an operation on his stomach forty years ago. They did in Dneprodzerzhinsk, where there was a distant family who managed to agree with a surgeon-VETIL, for which it was customary to ride already from Moscow. A good boy D. arrived, operated on December 31, the department was almost empty - except for a pair of seats and the doctor on duty, everyone who could, fled. And nearly twelve good boy, D. woke the most distant family, which made his way to the gastroenterological chamber of the surgical department with Olivier, and caviar, sprats, champagne, and smoked cheese. And in a whisper, in the dark, like little shy cockroaches, this distant family celebrated with a good boy D. and three of his neighbors in the New Year's Eve, so that everything was humanly; And to all the forbidden that they brought, smeared patients a little on the lips-with sprats, and caviar, and cheese, and champagne-so that everything is humanly.

***

... Here, let's say, a good girl T. forty -two years old, a psychiatrist by profession, says that one of her patients just the other day stuck a knife in the middle of the palm of his hand. “This is nothing,” says a good girl T., “this is a normal New Year’s story.” The interlocutors are surprised. A good girl T. feels that it is necessary to show more empathy, and politely asks: "And what palm he stuck in?" - “Yes to the left. He cut the salad, the knife jumped out and-rr-r-once! “In the very middle of the palm, deep, I had to go to the hospital.” “Wait,” says the good girl T. as worried, “is he stuck it unconsciously?” - "Well, yes". “It’s not good,” says a good girl T. Savoribly. “Not good, it's not good.”

***

... Here, say, a good boy P. P., due to family circumstances, spent two months with his uncle and aunts who are deeply believers and completely church people. Upon his return, he interestingly told his parents about why the Mother of God was called the intercessor about how the gospels came out not one, but a few, about why people communion and why it is not necessary, but sometimes useful and well-in a word, somehow, in the opinion of the parents far from the Church, he took everything and generally expanded his horizons in conversations with Dada and Aunt. And at night, parents hear-a good boy P. lies in the dark and mutters something. We approached quietly to the door, and there: “Dear grandfather Frost, an application for me in front of my parents, let them hear my prayers, give me a tablet and do not carry the cold on a rink.” And they were very happy that the child was alive in Santa Claus, we do not need these “or - or” - but the skating rink is still useful for the development of exposure and coordination.

***

... Here, let's say, a good girl R. twenty -two years old tells her boyfriend that he wants the biggest Christmas tree, which you can buy. More than everyone. This is her childhood dream, and it is necessary to realize her now, there is no way to postpone it. Then there is a conversation about the money that is not, about the crisis, infantile behavior, stupid delays from work, the priority of washing dishes, the bombaled eyes, former women, incomprehensible nightcames, the hell knows from whom, smoking in the bedroom, although they asked a hundred times, the smell of fish from the refrigerator; Then there is a clapping door, then everything. And after four hours, the boyfriend of a good girl R. drives up to the entrance with, naturally, wiped to the car with tape with a titanic Christmas tree. An unreal, five -meter Christmas tree, about which it is impossible to even imagine, where it came from and how much it cost. Maybe he stole her small from some area. One way or another, the boyfriend of a good girl R. with a bang tearing a Christmas tree from the car, puts it right in front of the entrance, gasp and leaves. On you, get it. Fifteen minutes later, of course, he begins to suffer and worry, but honestly walks somewhere, some things do minor things, comes home from the principle no earlier than usual, and even fifteen minutes later. Even from the stop begins to look out for his entrance. There is no Christmas tree. This is even a shame: firstly, how much effort was spent, and someone is stubborn, and secondly, the Christmas tree should have been lying with a dumb reproach so that everyone stumbled about it. Comes to the apartment. Decorated, all in balls and flashlights, carefully kept grandmother's toys and new fashionable toys, entangled in a rain and wrapped in garlands, a Christmas tree blinks with colored joyful lights in a fragrant semi -half -half. Lying. In the bedroom, diagonally, dumb reproach. For twelve days lay. Brown eyes, incomprehensible SS, to the toilet should be climbed over a chair, crisis, smoking in the bedroom - now also fire hazardous and therefore completely offensive - the blue crown, raspberry trunk, the tinkling of green cones.