Warming nights

Beneath the stars, so cold and bright, 
A girl kept watch through winter's night. 
With furry friends, who softly sighed, 
She dreamed of warmth where fires died.

The old man counted coins with glee.
Each shiny disk a treasure free. 
But frost crept close, her hearth turned gray,
No flames to chase the chill away.

"Give me your wood!" the elder cried, 
But deep in barn, where shadows played, 
She'd stoked a secret wooden crate.

Red sled arrived, bells jingling clear, 
Its driver laughed, his beard so near. 
Four hoofed ones weak, their strength near gone, 
They sought the barn before the dawn.

Ash filled the shack, no sticks remained, 
The counting stopped, the greed was chained. 
Fury struck, a fiery spark, 
Turned hay to flame, left naught but dark.

From forest's edge the girl returned. 
With kindling small her heart still burned. 
Many beasts stood by her side. 
Their love a gift she couldn’t hide.

In morning light a sack was found. 
Inside black stones, a magic mound. 
No need to count, it stretched afar. 
Enough to warm both girl and star.