You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Matthew 5: 13 NLT
The elevator door opened and the smell of a Puerto Rican feast greeted me. She’s cooking again! I sighed, breathing in my sweet neighbor’s cooking. The scent of Caribbean spices filled the hallway and brought me back to the childhood I spent sitting in my grandmother’s kitchen. I used to sit at her table while Abuela would pace from sink to stove, peeling and rinsing, tasting and stirring until the aroma of her feast would envelope me with flavors, the clatter of Spanish voices all around me.
Walking past my neighbor’s door, I ached for her to open up and invite my two boys and me inside. It didn’t happen. So I balanced the pizza I’d bought in one hand and opened my own door with the other. Brandon and Tyler raced to the table waiting for their slice, their big brown eyes looking up at me with anticipation. They were excited about our meal, but after my neighbor’s reminder of my grandmother’s cooking, I knew that what I was serving them was lacking.
I’ve always wanted to give my children more than what I had growing up. I believe that’s every parent’s wish. But as I put the flat slices of pizza on their paper plates, I wished it were possible to give them even a taste of what I had when I was a little girl…
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