Plonk! The space heater stopped dead. Suddenly. Stifling an inward groan, I struggled to get up, fighting against the invasive cold which was determined to chain me to the futon.

I was on a student exchange programme in the Japanese countryside, and guess what? Houses here don’t have central heating. Still, in the words of the Japanese, “shoganai.” (“It can’t be helped.”) Braving the piercing cold, I stepped outside to refill the space heater.

Just when I finished topping it up, I saw my hunchbacked host grandmother hurry to me as fast as her feeble legs could carry her. She spoke to me in a rush of words that I failed to comprehend, but her gestures said it all. Concerned that I did not know to refill the heater, she had come to my aid.

The chilly wind continued to blow, only to be matched by the fire of warmth I felt from her kind act.