“Tea, Mister Strider?”
I glance up as Sam offers the mug, his smile cautious.
“It’s weak, mind you, but hot. Just the thing to ease the night’s chill.”
I nod, accepting his kindness with a smile of my own. Sensitive to our needs, he seeks to warm spirits plagued by a cold the late winter weather couldn’t match. Knowing only simplicity, and having no words to abate the darkness, he soothes our melancholy with hot drink.
I watch him move on, filling each cup in turn, and understand that with his liquid offering he brings simple comfort to us all.