“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all theuuu hrrrsh! The winding Christmas tree crashed into the wall and stopped there, its branches grinding. Tim wandered around the room, unable to find a place for himself. The minutes barely crawled by, he was terribly sleepy. The adults were noisy and laughing in their hall, Fed played “Star Rangers,” snapping at his brother as soon as he approached. Nasty snow was falling outside the window - not lush flakes, but a drizzle mixed with rain, no walks, no promised skis. Gifts had already been bought, hidden in the pantry - probably nonsense, a new jacket or an encyclopedia. Tim's eyes stung, he sobbed with insult, but did not cry. He is an adult, ten years old... almost ten. And men don’t cry..."