It was in the cold morning that I first saw the shabby little boy around ten years old in rags. He was trying to cover himself with whatever was left of his torn shawl.
I went inside after collecting the newspaper from the mailbox, switched on the coffee pot and sat on the sofa closest to the fireplace.
I got busy with my chores and it was afternoon when suddenly the doorbell rang. It was a parcel from my parents which had my Christmas...