Through snow-draped woods,
a small hut glows,
Its warmth spilling softly on the snow below.
Inside, the toymaker carves with care,
Turning wood to dreams beyond compare.

The scent of pine, of varnish sweet,
Mingles with snow's crisp retreat.
His tools hum softly, sharp and true,
Transforming dreams as they cut through.

A bear with button eyes so wide,
A soldier crafted to stand in pride,
A doll with braids of golden thread—
Each toy a gift, a promise to spread.
...