The bitter cold chilled her to the bone in that dark alleyway. The baby in her arms cried and wailed, tears streaming down her red cheeks.
Robin, the mother, sighed and rocked her gently in her stick-thin arms. “Shhh…My Hope,” she whispered. The babe continued to cry, most likely cold from the winter stillness.

Once upon a time, when men were still young on the earth, the Fairies were dominant.
Fairies were ruled by Lords, and occasionally a Lady or two. But Fairy Lordship did not pass from father to son, as with lordship of Men. Their system was far safer in nature, not to mention more mysterious.

(I have this thing with writing Christmas stories...this is the third I've ever written and the only one without animals)

Ivan was standing at the counter, whistling along with Bing Crosby’s ‘White Christmas’.
He looked through the small apartment’s living room to the front window. By the light of the street lamp, he could see there was no snow—just cold, cracked pavement. He turned away, muttering under his breath.
“I’d really hoped for a white Christmas this year.”