I felt a tug on the tail of my coat. I had been lost in thoughts of life and how I would go on after all which had transpired, but my mind was shaken free as I turned toward the tug and saw a small child. Wrapped in rags, dirt smeared across their face, skin and bone. They offered a weak smile and asked if I had any change. My heart, heavy mere moments ago, melted. I took off my coat and I kneeled down into the slush of the cobblestone: “You’re freezing, please take my coat. There is some change in the pockets.” The child lit up brighter than any hundred candles ever could and hugged me. I watched them until they disappeared, skipping away in delight. A snow began to fall as dark of night crept in. I stayed down on one knee, knowing that was in fact the last bit of money to my name. And that was my only coat. As the cold bit, I remembered my late parents, who I had lost long ago. That child, skipping away, held the last of what they had left me. The last of a vast fortune I had committed to helping others with. That child, so young, so full of potential and much life left to live, was far more important than my few remaining years. “They’ll be okay.” I reassured myself as I gathered my strength to rise. I turned up my collar to the wind and walked the stones to my friend’s small tavern.

“Where is your coat?! It’s freezing outside!” Exclaimed a stout man from behind the bar. Robert to most, but Bob to his friends, was the proprietor of this humble establishment. “Oh, nevermind about that.” I retorted as not to cause a fuss. He approached with a large bowl of soup- “Oh, I don’t have any money with me today Bob.” “It’s on the house.” He winked and walked away. As I whiled away the time taking great care to enjoy the gift of this much-needed food, a woman entered the bar, she was selling flowers. “For the missus?” She asked me as her eyes lingered on my meal. “Oh I’ve not got enough to pay you,” I replied. “You seem quite keen on the soup- are you hungry?” I continued. “Quite, sir.” “Oh, well please, this is far too much for me- here, have the rest, its delicious.” At that offer I watched a weight lift from her. She sat down and enjoyed the bowl to its last drop.

As I got up to leave the tavern, Bob came over and handed me four lumps of coal: “Its not much but its cold out there my friend- four is better than than none, which is undoubtedly  the amount you have waiting in your rooms.” “Your generosity is too much, Bob.” We shook hands and I made my way home. As I strode down my street, nearing my door, there was a figure. He was limping. “My goodness, are you okay?!” I exclaimed, only to realize it just a young man. I helped him steady himself. “I’ve been robbed… I believe I’m okay- they’ve just gone off with all the coal I had bought for the night.” “Well,” I reached into the small, tattered, crimson bag I was carrying, “I’m happy to share mine with you- I know its not much, but as the one who gifted it to me said: It’s better than none.” The young man’s tired eyes softened. “Thank you.” He said. “Do you live far? Can I help you home?” I asked. “You are too kind, that would be a wonderful help indeed. It’s just two blocks away.” He replied.

I waved goodbye to the man and returned to my dwelling. Huddled by my meager fire, all the thoughts which had plagued me earlier crept back into my mind. My shoulders sunk. But those thoughts they were met with others. Other thoughts of the people whom had come into my life this evening. I smiled. And as I wrapped a small blanket about my body a warmth came over me. Something bigger than this small garment could offer. It felt almost as an embrace. The fire began to burn brighter and warmer. My half full belly felt full. And then there came a voice. A voice that seemed from both inside my head and within the room. I was not afraid but rather comforted. It addressed me by name and asked why I had helped those people in such a way. Thinking I was talking to myself I chuckled aloud: “ho-ho!” But yet I answered: “It’s why we are all here- isn’t it? To help when others are in need? To give what we can toward life itself?” And then it asked for my help. It asked if I could, would I help it for as long as I am willing. And I, filled with warmth, and a heartiness I had not felt in years said of course. At this reply a hearty coat and a fur-lined hat appeared from thin air on the empty chair by my now blazing fire place. As if they had simply been placed there with my own two hands. Astounded, I thanked the voice for the much needed gifts of warmth. I told it I would do my best to help. To which it replied: “I know you will, Nicolas.”