Eavesdropping had become a habit of Winter. It snuck into houses through gaps windows and doors couldn't close. 

"Christmas isn't Christmas without any gifts! I have been good all year, why didn't Santa bring anything?" the little boy sobbed in his makeshift house in the dingy alley. 

His mother stroked his hair, wiped his tears as she tried to think of an excuse, lulling him into sleep. 

As the sun yawned and stretched its arms, basking everything in its light, the little boy woke up to find a little cat beside his bed. 

The harshest season rekindled warmth in hearts.