Evening with a 'real' Father Frost in Kemerovo

* This material is for informational and entertainment purposes only. The editorial board is not responsible for the consequences of this information during the holidays or possible questions from your children after reading. Also, the text does not guarantee the fulfillment of wishes in 2026.

Do you remember how long you believed in the existence of Father Frost and waited for gifts from the New Year«s magician? As a rule, by adolescence the sad truth is revealed: surprises under the tree are placed by parents, the lights on the forest beauty are lit by electricity, not by spells, and the staff is not magical, but just a stick.

At the NGS42 editorial office, there is, or rather was, a journalist who until yesterday believed in Father Frost and the New Year«s miracle. For the holiday, we fulfilled her dream and introduced her to a real magician, but something went wrong. And what exactly — read on.

Upon entering the Kemerovo Youth Palace, the first thing that catches the eye is the concrete floor polished to a shine, with festive photo zones here and there and a huge, ceiling-high tree. Inside the spacious hall, it is quiet, only occasionally near the forest beauty do girls with fox, hare, and cat ears run by. Maybe I should have dressed up in a costume too?

Inside me are the same emotions as at a childhood matinee; it seems that at any moment kids will run out from everywhere, stand in a round dance, and chant in unison: «Father Frost, Father Frost, Father Frost!» And then he will appear — the one always most awaited at the holiday. A real magician.

But now the lobby is silent, and no one is calling him. I wondered, maybe I should shout myself? Inside, I«m nervous, but I can»t show it, because I was invited to meet the real Father Frost and even help him deliver gifts. Such a chance comes only once in a lifetime.

And then he walks into the hall, almost exactly as I remembered him. Tall, bearded, gray-haired, in a blue shiny suit, but without the magic staff. Did he forget it?

I notice a green sweatshirt hood sticking out from under his collar. I wonder, why does he need it? Is he cold in his fur coat? A bit timidly, I ask this question.

— Help me hide it, or they«ll see and start asking silly questions too, — Father Frost answers me.

Flustered, I try to hide this mishap from sight and accidentally touch Grandfather«s hand. Surprisingly, the hand without the magic mitten is quite warm, even hot. I don»t have time to ponder this oddity, as I hear a shout from the corridor.

— Let«s hurry, we still have six addresses to get to, — Snegurochka (the Snow Maiden) shouts and hurries us to the exit.

We run out onto the snowy streets of Kemerovo and wait for transportation. I wonder what it will be: a small reindeer sleigh or huge sleds flying with magic pollen? But, to great disappointment, the most ordinary blue car pulls up to us.

We recount the sweet gifts, toss them into the trunk, and then settle into the car. Inside the cabin, it«s unbearably hot; I worry for grandfather and his granddaughter, afraid they might melt, and ask to turn off the heater. Father Frost, on the contrary, asks for more heat, because while we were waiting outside, his feet somehow got cold.

I begin to suspect that the modern Father Frost is now completely different. He rides in a car, coordinates the work of elves with a laptop, and gets cold on the streets of Kemerovo in a fur coat ordered from an online marketplace. Well, so what? It«s great that this old man, who is probably thousands of years old, keeps up with the times.

Evening and snowfall descend on the city. Residents hurrying home in the center of the Kuzbass capital are stuck in a nine-point traffic jam, in which we, along with the resident of Veliky Ustyug and his granddaughter, were trapped for almost an hour.

Most of the time, we sit in silence. Grandfather checks his mail on his smartphone, occasionally chuckling. Probably reading children«s wishes and thinking how happy they»ll be to receive gifts from him.

I worry that we won«t make it in time for the holiday and ask how this fairy-tale hero always arrives everywhere on time on New Year»s Eve.

— I«m magical, granddaughter, I always manage everything, but now we really are running late. Yes, it turned out this way, by December 31st we»ll probably deliver, — Frost replies with weariness in his voice.

Finally, we reach the first address on the list and go up to the second floor. On the first flight of stairs, Grandfather is already out of breath, which is understandable, he is old after all. And then everything was quick, brisk, swift, efficient, «at a waltz»s pace,« lightning-fast. We entered, handed over the gift, listened to a poem, took photos, and moved on. And so another five times in a row.

In total, over the evening we congratulated 13 children, touched seven trees, assessed two Spider-Man costumes, four festive dresses, petted a cat and a dog, listened to eight New Year«s poems and three times »A Fir Tree Was Born in the Forest,« and six happy mothers thanked us for bringing the holiday right to their children»s homes.

The children reacted differently: some immediately ran to recite poems, knowing they would eventually get a whole box of sweets. Some were shy but still approached and, stammering, read lines familiar to everyone. There were those who were afraid, but no one refused the gift. But did they realize that before them was the real magician, as I understood?

Unsurprisingly, adults were the most delighted by the sight of Father Frost. Some simply filmed him on their phones, while others approached without embarrassment to take selfies. Someone even asked to try on the beard.

— Better not, I won«t be able to put it back on by myself afterwards, — Grandfather answered them.

Somewhere at this moment, little by little, suspicions began to arise in my heart that this Father Frost was not real at all. Unfortunately, this was soon confirmed.

After handing over the last gift, we went outside; I couldn«t believe my eyes when I saw him, right in the middle of the street, without any embarrassment, take off his sheepskin coat, false beard, and felt boots. Into the trunk, instead of Father Frost»s garments, a young guy in a fashionable jacket was putting the clothes.

But I«m not upset at all. Obviously, they just slipped me someone wrong, and Father Frost will likely start his duties on the night of December 31st to January 1st. After all, he exists? Really, right?

Earlier, the NGS42.RU editorial board specially collected and prepared the most important topics for celebrating this New Year for you.