They sent a photograph of three lopsided grilled cheese sandwiches and a note that read: All citizens accounted for.

Have fun.

I made a shallow blue bowl that collapsed slightly in the kiln.

When I brought it home, Callum placed it on the table as though it were a museum treasure.

“It looks like it survived an earthquake,” I told him.

“Then it’s resilient,” he said.

I laughed.

The bowl became our key dish near the front door, imperfect and loved, a reminder that family life had room for more than one person’s calling.