Sisters’ Christmas /25
I had long wanted to take on this project, and this time I finally gathered it into my arms.
My childhood was beautiful because I had not only loving parents and caring grandparents, but also an older sister—who, in the early days of my life, may have been quite a thorn in my “sitting place,” but as I grew older and outgrew all childish mischief, we became inseparable friends.
How vivid our childhood memories are—when the two of us, left at home during the pre-Christmas season, would bake Kūčiukai together. The smoothness of the process and how it all unfolded could deserve an entire separate paragraph, but apart from flour clouds and sticky dough covering every corner of the kitchen—we baked MORE than enough of them.
How alive the memories are of how we would each year save our pocket money and travel to the Panevėžys market to buy gifts for Mom and Dad. Our budget was small, but our wishes were big.
And yet I still feel the joy that the process itself gave us. We would freeze to the bone, the market would start packing up its goods faster than we could decide, and still we would wander between stalls searching for THE PERFECT gift that would bring the most joy to Mom and Dad.
I remember very clearly one Christmas when, after sunflower soap products appeared in the market, we decided that this would be the gift that would make Mom happiest.
We stood there turning the green and blue boxes in our gloved hands for a long time, sniffing them with noses pinched red by the cold, trying to decide which smelled better… and unable to choose, we left the market and postponed the decision to the next day.
We also used to search for gifts hidden in the “attic” storage spaces. Our mother was truly clever—she created hiding places that two little detectives left alone at home could never fully uncover.
Once we actually managed to find one, but were quickly disappointed—it turned out to be only bubble gum eggs, and none of the main gifts we had written about in our letters to Santa were there. After tasting a candy egg each, we carefully put everything back and reminded each other to act surprised when, during the holiday, the gifts under the tree would be revealed—so that those purple eggs would seem like a complete surprise.
We also took gift wrapping very seriously, using all the (limited) creativity we had to make each small package as beautiful, hidden, and cozy as possible.
For the “Sisters’ Christmas” photoshoot, there was no need to write a detailed script. The best screenwriter—Life itself—this time did more than enough and did it for me.
What raised us together this time returned as memories and settled into a warm, truth-filled film.
V.
