My Burning Red Cardigan

      December 1998. During Christmas, my family and I went to Donosti to have a walk and, as I would know years after, buy presents. I was three years old, and I was fascinated by the lights and the carols. Once, when my parents stopped in front of a cloth-shop I saw a Olentzero singing. I was completely struck, and when he walked away, I left my grandma's hand and followed him. When my mother looked to where I was, she found nothing. The immediately stared terrified at the busy street. I, by the way, was chasing that Olentzero, that had stopped at the corner and had begun singing again. They started searching me, and of course, they found me staring completely haunted to him. My mother held my hand, and we went back to where my grandparents and my father were. When they asked where I had been, I replied, nonchalantly: "Singing with Olentzero". They smiled; fortunately, they had founded me and nothing had happened.

       They now tell me that they found me in a few moments because I wore a special cardigan that my grandma had knitted. As it was very bright red, they could see me between all those grey and black clothes that are so typical at winter.