The woman was astonished when she saw the old, old man in his leather apron and big spectacles beckoning and calling to her, but she gladly followed him.
“There,” said Martuin, “sit down near the stove and warm yourself.” Then he brought out bread, poured out cabbage soup, and took up the pot with the gruel.
“Eat, eat,” he said. “I will mind the little one. Tell me, why are you out in this bitter cold?”
“I am a soldier’s wife, but my husband has been sent far away. We have used up our money and I went to-day for work but they told me to come again.”
Martuin sighed. “Have you no warm clothes?”
“Ah, this is the time to wear them, but yesterday I sold my last warm shawl for food.”
Martuin sighed. He went to the little cupboard and found an old coat. “Take it,” he said. “It is a poor thing, yet it may help you.” He slipped some money into her hand and with this said, “Buy yourself a shawl and food till work shall be found.”
“May Christ bless you!” she cried. “He must have sent me to you. It had grown so cold my little child would have frozen to death, but He, the Christ-child, led you to look through the window.”
“Indeed He did,” said Martuin, smiling.
The woman left. Martuin ate some sheki, washed the dishes, and sat down again by the window to work. A shadow darkened the window. Martuin looked up eagerly. It was only an acquaintance who lived a little further down the street. Again the window grew dark. This time Martuin saw that an old apple woman had stopped right in front of the window. She carried a basket with apples and over her shoulder she had a bag full of chips. One could see that the bag was heavy. She lowered it to the sidewalk and as she did so, she set the apples on a little post. A little boy with a torn cap darted up, picked an apple out of the basket and started to run but the old woman caught him, knocked off his cap, and seized him by the hair.