Answer:
I go from house to house a messenger small and tight. Whether it rains or snows I sleep outside at night.
I have a small hill with seven holes.
Squeeze me and I cry tears as red as my flesh but my heart is made of stone.
I start new then become old. Start clean but be one dirty. I usually start big then become little.
I am a cold man without a soul. If there is warmth in me, it slowly will kill me. What am I?
Give it food and it will live, give it water and it will die.