Newsroom Shares Memories of Realizing Father Frost Isn't Real

Sooner or later, every child stops believing in Father Frost. Some will spot familiar features of a relative or kindergarten teacher beneath the kind wizard«s guise, while others might witness their parents paying Grandfather Frost and his granddaughter for a half-hour entertainment program. Some children are seriously upset by these discoveries, while others willingly play along with the game»s rules for a while longer.

Ahead of the New Year, the team at 161.RU shared how each of us figured out the truth about Father Frost. Though, it turns out some of us were hardened skeptics on the matter from a very early age.

Olga Sergeeva, Editor-in-Chief

«To be honest, I don»t remember ever believing in Father Frost as a child. I either figured out early on that he didn«t exist because my wishes usually didn»t match the «wizard»s« capabilities. For me, Father Frost was a noble character from my favorite Soviet cartoon »Snegovik-Pochtovik« (The Snowman-Postman).

Modern children figure things out pretty quickly. For instance, my son, at around five years old, would come up to me with a question like, «Grandfather Frost gave me this Lego, so what will you give me?» The same story with the tooth fairy. «Mom, tell the tooth fairy I really need an Indominus Rex.» After that, my son would wink and happily run off, and the fairy would sigh and place the order.

My daughter put Father Frost to an even tougher test. She once scratched out a letter for him—she was just learning to write—and hid it in a secret spot. She refused to tell her parents her wishes for Grandfather Frost, saying it was a secret. She was sure the addressee would read it and figure it out.

A thorough search for the letter at home yielded no results. We had to improvise and use leading questions to extract the wishes.«

Marina Rybalkina, Deputy Editor-in-Chief

«I stopped believing around age 7. It just happened on its own. But here»s what played a role: I noticed ordinary men«s shoes on one of the Father Frosts who came to a holiday party. I suspected I was being tricked somewhere. I took a closer look at other Father Frosts I met at various events—and they weren»t magical at all. Just regular guys with fake beards. By the next New Year, I already didn«t believe.»

Renat Daynutdinov, Correspondent

«To be honest, I don»t remember if I ever believed in Father Frost or not. I think I didn«t, because he usually brought the gifts I ordered. At the same time, I knew they were lying on a certain shelf in the closet. I always understood that my parents bought all this, not Father Frost.

On New Year«s Eve, all I had to do was step away from the tree to the window to watch the fireworks, and then just be surprised that the presents had somehow appeared under the tree.»

Alexandra Shevchenko, Head Editor

«I think I stopped believing in Father Frost late. It happened gradually. First, the Grandfathers at kindergarten were suspiciously similar to the teachers. I even asked a direct question:

— Anna Ivanovna, was that you dressed as Father Frost?

— Of course not, — Anna Ivanovna answered.

And who was I to not believe her.

At home, the New Year characters vaguely resembled my dad, or my uncle, or a neighbor. Though, it seemed they came more for the adults and never refused a shot of vodka and a snack. Well, why not? Father Frost is a grown man, he«s allowed.

Father Frost always left presents under the tree. That moment was a sacred mystery—for a long time, I couldn«t catch Grandfather in the act.

Until, at age 8, I peeked into my parents« wardrobe and saw a doll there. And a couple of days later, it was waiting for me under the tree. »Father Frost gave us the gift in advance,« my parents said. And who was I to not believe them.

At age 9, on New Year«s Eve, I couldn»t fall asleep for a long time. I got up to get some water and… There it was! My parents were putting gifts under the tree. I don«t know why the »gave it in advance« excuse didn»t work that time. But the fact remains. The puzzle pieces fell into place. Father Frost is a fraud.«

Alina Zayarnaya, Journalist

«I don»t remember ever firmly believing in Father Frost as a child. Honestly, for some reason, I haven«t liked New Year since early childhood. It evokes a vague melancholy and sadness.

From the childhood joys of the New Year holidays, I remember decorating the tree while concerts played on TV. I even have a photo where I hung tree ornaments on my ears like earrings, next to a lush fir tree, with Nikolai Baskov singing on TV in the background.

The school holiday parties were fun too. My mom always helped me make a beautiful costume. I was a snowflake at almost every party. I remember one party where almost all the boys, without planning it, came in Spider-Man costumes, it was funny.«

I also remember running early on the morning of January 1st to find a gift under the tree. Eating candy and tangerines. Watching «Home Alone» and Disney cartoons.«

Sabina Bondar, Lead Correspondent

«If we managed to preserve childhood and magic with our eldest son until he was about seven, our younger son Timur a year ago, when he was five, firmly declared he no longer believed in Father Frost. In the child»s opinion, he lives so far away that he simply won«t come to Suvorovsky, and besides, »a sleigh won«t go without snow,» and we don«t have any. I had to come up with answers to all my son»s logical conclusions.

December 31st was difficult for us. Dad went to Timur«s godfather, picked up his Father Frost costume. After the chimes struck midnight, someone rang the apartment doorbell, and on the doorstep stood a real Father Frost with a red sack full of gifts.

Before that, Timur«s dad told him he was going to the bathroom for a moment and closed the door. Following tradition, our little son ran to meet the guest and was simply stunned. In a low voice, Father Frost—in the form of Dad—started talking to the little boy and asked him to recite a poem. Timur had never recited with such excitement before. He spoke the words as if minting coins, while he himself shook like an aspen leaf, clinging to me. His heart was pounding as he examined Grandfather, peering into his eyes. Timur kept running to the bathroom door, knocking and shouting: »Dad, come out. He«s here.» Then he«d run back to Father Frost and examine him again.

After handing out the gifts, Grandfather Frost left and even brought a gift for Timur«s dad, with the instruction that he had to dance first to open it. While sorting through the treats, my son didn»t notice his father«s return and ran up to him saying: »Dad, dad, you missed everything! Father Frost came to us. He came. He even brought you a gift. But you have to dance first.«

— Mom, he came! So he really does exist! I«ll be good the whole year now, — Tim said before bed, hugging the capybara he had ordered, and fell into a sweet sleep!»

Ksenia Sukholenko, Correspondent

«I remember that in early childhood, I dreamed of meeting Father Frost, so I tried not to fall asleep on New Year»s Eve and sat in front of the TV. But at some point, I«d conk out and wake up in the morning feeling disappointed.

I don«t recall exactly when or why I stopped believing in the magical grandfather. But I always eagerly awaited the gifts under the tree—as one of the happiest events of the year. Generally, it was (and in my heart remains) a fundamentally important ritual for me. We even wrapped gifts for our pets and put them under the tree. Simply handing them over wouldn»t have been festive at all.

I recall a case when my younger sister and I were very surprised by Father Frost«s bizarre picks. We were probably expecting some dolls, but in the morning we discovered a mini pool table and a toy synthesizer—a set for a child»s dive bar. You should be grateful for any gift (within reason), but why a pool table—that question still puzzles me.«