When my neighbor brought hope and fried rice

BY ANNE DAHLHAUSER

A lady came to our door awhile back, carrying a pan nearly half her size. It was brimming with homemade fried rice.

Our words were clumsy, as I tried to understand the unexpected gift. I thought she was at the wrong house, thought she was maybe intending to join the neighbor’s party. After all, she had such a big pan of food in her arms. “No, for here. The car accident?” she asked me. “My friend said so. You – in car accident.”

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