The northern winds came knocking on my window waking me from my warm nest of jersey knit sheets and quilts piled on top. Just days before I was in tattered denim cut offs, a racerback tank top and barefoot sitting in the sun on our deck.

Along with the new year, winter has arrived on Tybee. Today was the first day I had to dig out a pair of mismatched gloves to keep my hands warm.

After each of the girls climb out from their hibernation, everyone is complaining about how cold they are. Even though our heat is working great and the temperature is set at 70 degrees. The single pane windows in our apartment were just not made to keep old man winter out as he continues to knock and rattle the glass.

Ava talks about the less fortunate, those living in the tent city under the bridge and behind the bushes in the squares of Savannah. She spent the day cleaning out her closet and pulling things out of storage from under her half of the bunk bed. She does a load of laundry washing any extra fuzzy fleece blankets and asks if we can take them to the tent city people.

I quickly tapped out a note and posted it on Facebook to my fellow islanders asking for extra coats and blankets to add to our pile. Within minutes, messages start flooding in. I make pickup and drop off arrangements with each donor. By the end of the day, we filled the back of our van with a bundle of warmth.

Before the sun went down, Sean Ava and I pulled over to the section under Truman parkway that provides shelter over the camp. A large puddle has trash and plastic bottles floating in it. Before we could get the van doors open, a tiny weathered and aged woman came shuffling over to us.

As other cars and trucks barreled by, we handed her a few of the bags stuffed with bedding and winter coats . She said she would bring someone else over to help. A few minutes later a man wearing an oversized worn coat with the hood pulled over his head arrived. Sean asked how he was doing and he said he was cold. We loaded his arms with more bags and told him we hoped this would help them through the coming nights. They were gracious and thankful and asked God to bless us  as we said goodbye and got back in the van.

Within minutes we were headed back to our chilly oasis island as the sun was setting behind us over the marsh that separates us from the rest of the world. The amber glow settled on the winter brown marsh grass, till it eventually turned cold and grey.

We gathered with friends around a fire pit laughing and telling stories as we celebrated Joseph’s fortieth spin around the sun. When we had enough of the cold we went inside where heat was plentiful. By ten o’clock I was snuggled up in my fuzzy cocoon of a nest, never wanting to take for granted what I have. Thinking of the people we met today, hoping there was enough warm things in those bags to spread around their little village and keep them safe tonight.