Three years now I have been writing Letters to Father Frost, Sending them and pleading, Wiping away my tears:
"I don't need white roses Or toys either, Dear Father Frost, please give me My father, if you can.
He left long, long ago, Mother drinks more each day. Won't you send to her Something to ease her pain?
And my little sister, if You could spare your blessing— Send her health and strength. She coughs blood now, growing weak.
But the children in the yard Buzz at me like wasps, Saying such gifts don't exist, That there is no Father Frost"...
The letter slipped from my hands Right there by the garden, And I wept, when suddenly Our neighbor came near.
She embraced me like a daughter, Hearing all my troubles, Then whispered: "Do you know what? Let's write a letter to God!
He never slumbers, He knows all our needs, And to those who ask Him, He always gives help."
April stood in the courtyard. Winter's frost was melting, Streams ran, the snow dripped, Flocks of birds returned.
My sister is getting better. A miracle came for Mother: One day she happened to find A pile of my letters,
And reading them through her tears, Kneeling on the ground, Mother repented of her sins And received forgiveness.
Now the three of us together Shine with joy and gladness, We live in a new way, Praising God with our hearts.
Only Father... He will come! He will return, I know it! Because God hears us. Yes! And He answers!
