Martin Birck's Youth by Hjalmar Soderberg

White winter came with sleigh bells and snow and ice-flowers on the windowpane. "They are the dead summer flowers come back again," said Martin's mother. Evergreen forests out in the country came from the darkness and solitude into the city streets and squares, and when the Christmas bells rang in the holy day, there stood in Martin's home a dark and timid fir which smelt of the woods, till evening came and it stood aglitter with candles, white candles and colored candles, and was covered with winter apples and sugarplums with mottoes which were so stupid that even Martin and Maria could see how stupid they were. All the glory of Christmas passed -- it was like turning the page of a picture-book -- and the star of New Year's Eve was burning across the white roofs, and people said to each other, "Good night, and thanks for the year! " With a shivering sensation Martin thought of the line of gray winter days that were waiting, to which he could see no ending, for it was interminably long till summer, and still longer till next Christmas.

New Year's morning he was waked while it was still dark to go to early service. Half asleep he scrambled through the snow by the side of his parents, and as they came around the corner, there stood the church like a giant lantern shining out across the white square where people were crawling in across the snow from all directions. Within the church was the organ's roar and singing and many shining candles, and Martin felt happy and good and thought this was just the right way to begin the new year; and when the minister began to preach, he went straight to sleep. But when he woke up, the pale hue of dawn was shining in through the windows in the cupola and his mother roused him with, "Now we'll go home and drink our coffee."