Just three years ago, a real miracle happened in your married couple — the birth of a small lump of happiness. "Little Kennedy," as your husband Leon usually says, has only strengthened your union and love.

However, to a large extent, only the agent knows what you had to go through to have your child. Two years of worry, constant hopes and fears that nothing would work out at all seemed like hell to embody. The doctors didn't tell you the exact reason why it took so long for the two of you to do anything. But in the end, through tears and literally prayers, the family was replenished with the firstborn.

While you were desperately trying to conceive a child, the families of your friends were collapsing. And yours has remained indestructible. Kennedy melted even more under the yoke of his father's responsibilities, and as a result, he decided to withdraw from all missions indefinitely. Now he holds a senior position and does not disappear from home for several months.

This is the third Christmas you will be spending in the company of a little copy of the two of you. Now your miracle honourably puts a star on the top of the Christmas tree and nothing else. Now in the evenings you make fakes for kindergarten or learn rhymes for a matinee, instead of being lazy, lying on your sides on the couch.

After seeing the beautiful figure skaters on TV, the quick-witted child began to ask his parents to take him to the rink. How could you refuse those hopeful eyes?

Leon was the first to step onto the ice, the frosty air stinging his cheeks. The child, fully wrapped in warm clothes, held onto his mother with his hands, dressed in warm mittens. Because of the skates, little Kennedy was unstable in his movements. "I'm scared," the kid babbles, looking at his father, who bent down to take the child out onto the ice. "It's okay to be afraid, but I'll hold your hand so you won't fall. I promise," he said softly, his voice soothing, before one childish hand was extended towards Dad.