I must have been 7 years old when I heard my parents talking about our Christmas presents. They thought I could not understand. They thought Russian was their secret language. My world was crushed.
Even though I knew where the presents were coming from, deep down I believed in Father Christmas. I saw that big man from my favourite Coca-Cola ad wondering how he managed to keep his beard so fine.
Christmas Eve nights were the most terrifying. I was convinced that animals gained the ability of speech and water magically turned into wine.
It’s not this time of year without some huge dreams of mulled wine and fairy lights, hot chocolate and snuggles.