About the book: year / "There was the purest and brightest holiday in the world. It was a memory of the golden age, the highest point of that feeling that is now on its way out - the feeling of home. The Christmas holiday was bright in Russian families, like Christmas tree candles, and pure as resin. In the foreground was a large green tree and cheerful children; even adults, not experienced in having fun, were less bored, huddling near the walls. And everything danced - both the children and the dying candles.…»