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The Gift of Baklava

Ever since I moved into this apartment building, Alex, my neighbour across the hall, and I have shared a laid-back, do-you-have-a-cup-of-sugar-I-can-borrow relationship. Particularly in a rainy city like Vancouver, it’s nice to have a backup plan for coming home with a couple of bags of groceries, only to discover I forgot to pick up some onions or I needed milk and didn’t add it to the list.

Grocery Shopping Chore

For one reason or another, I never did manage to get to the store on the weekend. I had been meaning to go earlier in the day, but I got so caught up in my job search it was late afternoon before I knew it. Now time to start thinking about preparing dinner, I was in need of some basic ingredients. When Alex knocked on my door, wondering if I could spare him an orange, I was ready for a break. Already in the middle of making dessert for his evening meal, he discovered that he had none. Just juice wouldn’t do since he also needed the peel for zest. Viewing it as a motivator to do a chore I’m not fond of, I didn’t hesitate. I told him that I was just heading out to get some things for supper.

Turns into a Sweet Payoff

Off I went. Especially after being cooped up all day, I enjoyed the fresh air as I walked to the grocery store. Upon my return to the apartment building, I gave Alex his orange (What do I owe you? – Nothing – Thank you – You’re welcome), washed and put away the produce and then got started on dinner. I didn’t give Alex or the orange another thought.  Just after 9 p.m. someone knocked on my door. It was Alex with a small plate that contained three pieces of baklava, still warm from the oven. It smelled heavenly.

Life is Like That

I told him he shouldn’t have; he told me to enjoy. So I did. In honour of homemade baklava, I brewed a fresh pot of Earl Grey and saved the other two pieces (okay, I confess there’s only one piece left because earlier today I ate one for “breakfast” with my morning coffee). Sometimes Greeks bearing gifts is not a bad thing.

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