I knelt beside him, feeling that something was wrong.
— Show me your hands, — I asked softly.

He hesitated for a long time. Then he slowly extended them. The small hands trembled — the skin cracked, bluish, with tiny scratches. It seemed as if a single touch would make them shatter like ice.

— Where are your gloves? — I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

— They tore… — he looked down. — Mom said she’ll buy new ones when she can. They’re already trying… I’ll wait. I just… wanted to warm my hands a bit here. It’s very cold outside.

Something tightened inside me. I looked at those little fingers and realized he shouldn’t have to wait.

— What if you didn’t have to wait so long? — I said, trying to smile. — I saw some nice gloves and a scarf in the store by the school. I’ll get them for you, okay? In the meantime, wear mine. They’re big, but warm. Let your hands thaw a little… until our next meeting.

He looked up at me and suddenly smiled — shyly, gratefully.
And in that moment, I felt my heart warm along with his hands.