Finland Falling Cloudberries

I remember opening the long-awaited Christmas parcels from our meticulous Finnish grandfather. We would be amazed at how perfectly they were always wrapped. Those beautiful candles, and the mantelipiparkakkuja (they were the biscuits). We would fall about doubled over with laughter as we tried to pronounce these names. Finland still remains a dream; a faraway land where Father Christmas lives and glides here and there with his sleigh, ducking through falling cloudberries and past my mother ice-skating to school.