The lane was dark. The baby was crying. The widow felt hopeless and alone. She heard a child coughing in the bedroom and worried.

Then a knock came at her door.

She held her baby close and went to see who it could be.

At this hour, she thought.

A crowd gathered outside, lit softly by the lovely glow of many coloured lights. They were smiling. Nico stepped forward. He was holding a tree.

"Mr. Klaus. What's going on?"

"Please," he said. "Everyone calls me Nico."

A cough echoed from within, and it pulled the lines of Nico's brow like someone drawing a window covering.

"May I come in?"