On a cold garden, full of winter frost,

a child plays with a few crystals of ice.

Already entranced by the sparkle, note, behind a bush,

a brighter light,

then sees a child

even smaller self hide among the dead leaves.

Approaches, greets him, asks the name.

The child responds: “My reputation preceded me and follow me,

yet I have known in a few

and only a small number of men has received my message”.

The other, surprised, therefore urges the questions:

“Why are you here alone and naked in this cold?”

The one responds slowly: “Why are men so I depict;

hear my words meant for the poor in spirit,

have not been able to better represent this "nudity",

this being detached from things”.

The child, pity, covers him with his scarf and,

increasingly surrounded by the magical atmosphere,

understand deeply the meaning of the talk;

recognizes, is moved, but, above all,

feels closer to what I now consider a friend and,

from the heart, tells him:

“Dear Baby Jesus,

Christmas is near, … but this year I'll get a gift:

I give you an Advent calendar that I filled with sounds and voices

singing you, for you.

It can open a window at a time

and hear what everyone tells you.

And I express the wish that these notes

You can play as many soft coats:

mantles gifts, suitable to your rank, full of lights, finally,

beadle the darkness of self-sufficiency and indifference.

Many will warm the heart with this innocuous image of your presence;

now feel the strength and justice of the King”.

… Because even in fairy tales

a message is repeated unnecessarily for ever,

two children,

finally,

now playing and laughing…

together!