It was a neighbor sharing what she could make, and we could accept it with the same ordinary gratitude we hoped people felt when they came to us.

At noon we sliced one loaf and ate it with soup.

I saved the second for Nadine, who was helping her sister after surgery.

Watching everyone gather around the table, I was struck again by how much of life depends on people meeting one another in small moments, without promises or applause.

Twenty-seven years earlier, I had been certain that ten dollars was all I had.

I know now that it was only all the money I had.

The distinction changed my life.