The smell of the fresh spruce filled the room, with the scents of vanilla and fresh pastries breaking through from the kitchen.

Robert did not understand why he had woken up. He was simply looking sleepily at the Christmas tree with its glittering lights. He could hear bells ringing, an accordion playing and Christmas carols being sung outside in the distance.

Christmas celebrations were in full swing. People, dressed in the costumes of vertep[11], were performing the show in the middle of the snow-covered street. They were clad in leather, fur-lined jackets, girded with belts around their waists and crosswise on their chests, rough trousers tucked into felt boots and large and small iron bells attached to their belts. The bells chimed with many tones, timbre and duration as the players ran around or stomped their feet. Crude black masks with slits for eyes covered their faces; they wore black turbans with red ribbons and held curved wooden sticks or brooms. According to tradition, they were forbidden to speak; they only growled and barked like dogs, frightening passers-by and amusing children. Other participants in the nativity scene – carolers – were dressed in Hutsul folk costumes – keptars[12], sardaks[13] or goatskin kozhukhs[14]. They carried a long pole topped by a large star in front of them and sang traditional kolyadky[15].

The shows were performed at nearly every door. Four deacons carried a model of the village church and a donation box from one household to the other. The families would listen to the carols and psalms, give gifts to carolers and make donations to the church.

Joy and laughter abounded. Despite the cold, the accordionists played with bare hands, pressing the keys and buttons in time with the carolers. For three days the festivities would fade away near dawn only to start up again at dusk.

It was dark on the streets of Harsfolvo, a little village on the outskirts of the resort town of Solva, stranded between the mountains where Robert’s family lived. But thanks to the abundant snow that fell just before the New Year’s and bright light of the stars, the world looked magical.

The houses along the street were pressed together by narrow courtyards. Anyone passing could see Christmas trees with colorful lights, ornaments and garlands sparkling through the windows.

Robert had a hard time keeping his eyes open; he was tired and sleep overcame him, trying to break his will and yield to the intoxicating spirit of Morpheus. It was always nice and sweet to fall asleep.

Robert dropped his head onto the soft pillow and sank into fantasies that smoothly transitioned into dreams.

“Trevor! Hello! Wakey-wakey! You’ve slept long enough!”

The cheerful female voice came from the kitchen, followed by the chiming of glasses, plates, and cutlery, which the woman was setting on the breakfast table.

“Wake up, Trevor!”

Robert opened his eyes only after somebody pulled his comforter off.

“Auntie, let me sleep a while longer. Five more minutes,” he groaned sleepily and tried to pull the comforter back, but it slid to the floor.

Robert reached for the quilt, but he could not grab it on his first try, so he moved closed to the edge. At that moment, something incredible happened. It was as if he found himself in a world behind a looking-glass. In the middle of a huge room with a high ceiling stood a magnificent Christmas tree, lusciously decorated with round ornaments, animal figurines, glowing garlands of different colors, and great golden and red bows. A bright red star was perched on the very tip of the tree, which lit up in all the colors of the rainbow. The big red and blue ornaments, smaller white and green ones, candies wrapped in white napkins, all hung by multicolored threads, together creating an aura of something magical and ethereal.