In an old story from Japan, an elderly couple, who lived in a cottage among snowy mountains, had little food to celebrate the new year, and no money, so they wove five conical hats, and the man set out into the cold of winter, through the countryside, heading for the town, and along the way he saw six statues, guardians watching the path, whereupon he offered a morning greeting and politely prayed, then continued on the way, until entering the town, where he offered the hats, calling to passersby, hour after hour, town-life continuing at a festive pace, the air growing colder under the gray sky, but as evening approached, he had sold no hats, not even one, and as the market closed, it began to snow, so, knowing he must return, he departed from the town, heading back to the cottage, trudging onward, the snow steadily gathering, and she will be crestfallen, he thought, as he passed alone through the hills, and then the row of statues appeared again, now with snow piling on their heads, whereupon he stopped, greeted them again and thought for a moment, then brushed away the snow, placing a hat on each guardian’s head, until he reached the sixth statue, when the hats had run out, as the snow was still falling, so he removed his own hat and put it on the statue’s head, then bid the guardians farewell, continuing on, following the long, icy path into the dark, until reaching the cottage, announcing his arrival, his wife welcoming him, as she sat by the stove, and as he settled, she asked about the hats, for even his own was gone, and he told her about the town and the statues, and she was pleased with his honorable deed, although they would not have a feast to celebrate the new year, and as the night grew darker, soon they were sleeping, until hearing strange voices in the distance, like a song, and footsteps in the snow, approaching the cottage, a steady march, until reaching the front door, a small gathering of unfamiliar voices, and as the elderly couple listened, they felt slightly afraid, as soft thumps fell at the doorstep, and the march set out again, they waited cautiously, then went to the door, opening it slightly, finding a sack of rice, a basket of vegetables, and even rice wine, and the couple stood at the doorstep, awe-stricken, indeed, but grateful, bowing many times, as the footsteps of the guardians marched through the snow, fading into the dark.