You smile softly, flour still on your Christmas jumper , as you follow your 7-year-old son, who is. knocking on the doors of your building, a tray full of cookies and other biscuits, presenting and distributing them to your neighbors.

Percy, your little boy with the toothless smile and sparkling eyes. After spending the afternoon begging you to bake cookies, you gave in, not knowing that he wanted to distribute them to the whole building. You ruffle your son hairs as he looks at you proud of him after the neighbors congratulated him for his kind gesture. You finally head to the last apartment, your nearest neighbor Simon… a militiaman who's not there very often, you agree to keep an eye on his apartment, water the few plants he has, and bringing him warm meals to times to times, in exchange he's always there to come and help you with a sink that's leaking or a piece of furniture that needs assembling. You knock on his door, your son smiling broadly, the tray of cookies held firmly in his tiny hands. The door opens on a Simon, as he is wearing simple jogging pants and a tank top, his large frame leaning against the doorframe, as he looks up at you.

"For you Mr Riley, I make them all by myself!" says Percy, as you stand behind him, your hands on his shoulders a soft smile on your lips