It was a cold December morning and the snow was glistening in the sun. My mother had gone to work in the ammunition factory. My grandmother lived with us and had the fire lighting and the breakfast ready for me and my sister. We had very little food because my mother had a Russian book. We would often go to bed hungry. My father was gone to the war. I often heard my mother cry because my father was gone.
It was two days to Christmas and we had no money to buy presents so we rustled up our own gifts. We made paper decorations for the house. My sister made my grandmother and mother necklaces out of beads and wool. My grandmother was knitting jumpers and scarves. Even though we did not have much money to spend it was still exciting. It was not the same as when Father was here. He used to make us laugh. We all sat around the fire and all of a sudden the sirens echoed in the streets to ward us the Germans were attacking. My mother pulled the black out curtains and we all rushed down into the bunker. I looked at my little sister and she started to cry. We heard the planes pass and the sirens stop. We waited about 10 minutes just in case. We came up and we saw an arm of a body about fifteen feet from us and my sister started to cry. We went into the house. My mother told me and my Sister to go to bed. My mother gave my sister a kiss and off we went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night and I heard my mother cry. I thought about all the times I had with my father. I went back asleep. I got up the next morning. My family were already awake. About ten minutes later we heard a knock. My mother answered and she was screaming. We all rushed to the door. It was my father. We all hugged. Even though the war was on, I still thought it was the best Christmas ever.