There was no thought involved, just sit down and write basically.

A nice idea, a good bit of mystery about the first few sections, but it didn't quite work for me. Needed a bit more development, I think.

The dark figure tramped through the streets.
Almost a ball of rags, what was once a great coat but now has been gnawed at by many nights sleeping in a gutter.
A brown top hat hides his face, and he walks with was once a strong stride.
A figure leaning against a wall, puffing a cigarette.
The man walks by without a second glance.
"You do realise this won't help."
The man stops walking.
"Does it matter?"
"Why do you continue?"
"She would have wanted me to."
The man shakes his head and drops the cigarette, crushing it with his foot.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Well, Tom, if you do find Noelle, come find me."
"For what, may I ask?"
"I'll help you get back on your feet. I have money."
"Thanks Will. Too bad there's pretty much no chance."
"Well, still. I might see you in a different town. I wish to travel before I die."
"Good for you."
The man walks on, a little more strength in his step.

He arrives at a different town, a month later.
The man is there again, a cigarette.
"You keep showing up."
"Well, I thought you might need help. I wanted to ask you something."
"What?"
"What do you want when you're done? It will be easier if I just have it prepared; I'm like that."
"A house and money."
"That it?"
"Well....I don't know."
"Know what? I'll be in the next town. Make a list."
"As you wish."
The man walks on, then stops.
"What date is today?"
"First Sunday in December."
He walks on again, a ray of happiness puncturing the gloom.

Another week later, another town.
"So?"
"Here."
He passes the man a sheet, who quickly reads it.
"I might not give you everything...maybe if you're good."
He looks up and winks, and Tom shrugs.
"Go on then."

Tom walks on, and finally, 2 weeks later, arrives at a lone cottage.
He knocks on the door, looking to find some shelter, and an amazing thing happens.
Noelle answers the door.

"Wake up...."
"Huh?"
"Wake up...."
"What?"
Tom's eyes snapped open in his bedroom.
"Dad?"
"Son, it's Christmas morning!"
Tom leaps out of bed and runs down the stairs, filled with happiness.
His mother walks into his room.
"His 9th Christmas, Will, we've had him so long..."