martedì 16 novembre 2010


He comes every year, and this year he will come too. On the 5th of December he will bring us gifts, but that's not the important part. The atmophere which my family has always created, the warmth, the love, everything is just perfect on that evening. And the month passed writing poems and wrapping gifts is totally worth it.

This year unfortunately my parents decided they didn't want to celebrate it anymore. I felt horrible, because it's the one day I love, the one da that I wait for for the whole year, the one day that I feel home and loved like nothing could ever go wrong.
You know when you keep one small thing as if you were a child, because it's comforting, nice, and makes you happy.
But they don't know what to give, what to do, and.. the other families have stopped celebrating it when the children were 12.
Sorry but I don't give a damn about what other families did, didn't you teach me not to give a damn?

Roberto and I decided that this would be our first year celebrating it together. He never celebrated it before and it so difficult to explain the traditions, the feelings to someone who hasn't felt it since he was a child. Fortunately he celebrated Christmas, and the two festivities obvioulsy have someting in common.

When I think of Sinterklaas I think of songs sung at evening before going to bed to put you shoe under the with a carrot for the horse in it.
The day after find sweets instead of the carrots.
Hearing Sinterklaas walking around the house and thinking that he's hearing you sing.
Waiting for that day more and more, being full of hope.
The happiness I felt when I woke up because I was sure I would find something in my shoe.
Unwrapping the gifts not before having read the poem which "he" had written (it seemed he actually did know what I did most time of my life!haha).
Eating Spekulaas from the Netherlands and the Letter of Chocolate.

I have so many memories. I think only good ones. This was the best day in my year, and now I will have to built it anew, recreate it, with someone else. I am pretty sad about it, even if a love celebrating it with Roberto. We are not in "our" home, we haven't got the time to see eachother and decorate the house, I won't put the shoe under the fireplace. But it's going to be special. I am sure.

I am sorry if the images are small, but the first ones are my favourite from a book of my childhood. For the sources click on the image.

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