It was a beautiful winter night. The moon was shining brightly, illuminating the small mountain stream in dazzling colours. The temperature had already dropped many weeks ago and it was freezing cold, especially at night, but Ryan seemed completely oblivious of the snow and cold around him. He had made up his mind a while ago and was determined to climb the mountain and return with a special Christmas present for his village. They deserved it so much this year, after the hard times they had gone through. He wanted his people to be happy, at Christmas at least.

Starting in spring, the year had been a catastrophe. Vandalizing troops from all around the country had attacked his village several times. Living hundreds of miles away from the next castle or a bigger city, they had learned only then that there had been a war, and since they lacked any substantial protection like a town wall or the like, they had been forced to give away almost everything they had.

When winter was nearing, the attacks had ceased. But almost all of their harvest and livestock was gone and everybody was exhausted after working hard to provide enough food and housing for angry intruders. And yet, they hadn’t been finished with work. If they did not want to starve from hunger during winter, they had to provide some food for themselves.

In the following month, everybody spent most of the day hunting, collecting berries, roots, mushrooms, and everything eatable they could find, bringing in the remaining harvest, repairing all the partly badly damaged houses, and collecting firewood. People were totally worn out.

Someday while chopping wood, Ryan remembered how some of the intruders had been discussing some beautiful sculptures made from glacial ice or wood by the people in the mountains. The village people never had any contact with the mountain people, but Ryan knew how to get to the mountain village. He only had to follow the small mountain stream. All he was waiting for was the moonlight he needed to find his way through the mountains in the middle of the night.

In the solitude of the cold winter night, he felt like he had been walking for days and not for some hours only when he reached the mountain village. Ryan examined the surroundings. Everybody in the unfamiliar village was fast asleep. Soon, he spotted a bigger open hut in the centre of the village and was curious to see what was in it. He moved carefully avoiding any sound and trying to stay in the shadows of the huts.

Finally, he reached the entrance, and there they were: the sculptures. He could see all of them sparkling in the moonlight. Small trees, houses, people, even livestock from ice and wood. They were beautiful, amazing, like a treasure he had found. Whether it was due to the freezing temperatures, due to the long, steep walk along the mountain path, or the spectacular view in front of him and behind him down the mountain, he did not know, but all of a sudden he started feeling some kind of remorse for the fact that he was planning to steal something from the mountain people. Obviously, the vandalizing troops hadn’t spared them their attacks either.

How were they getting along? he asked himself. They must have been struggling to survive like his folks had, too. And all of a sudden, he knew he couldn’t simply steal something from them, no matter how much he wished to comfort his people.

As noiselessly as he had entered it, he left the mountain village. And while he was heading back to the woods down the path, a plan formed in his mind. He wouldn’t steal any sculptures, he couldn’t, but he would bring the mountain people a Christmas tree and trade it for as many sculptures as they were willing to give him. Maybe he could even invite them to his village for Christmas. Somebody who was able to create such beautiful sculptures could not be bad and the winter in this region was long. So perhaps, it was a good idea to make some friends, to have some distraction, to help each other. Sure, resources were limited this year, probably they were with the mountain people, too, but they could share.

At the crack of dawn, Ryan returned to the mountain village with a big beautiful Christmas tree.