The Smell of Cinnamon

Marta lived alone in a small apartment. Her new neighbor, Doña Pilar, was an old woman. They saw each other in the elevator sometimes, but they did not talk.

Marta bodde alene i en liten leilighet. Den nye naboen hennes, doña Pilar, var en gammel dame. De så hverandre i heisen av og til, men de snakket ikke sammen.

One Sunday morning, Marta opened her front door to go for a walk. There was a small plate on the floor. On the plate was a piece of cake. The cake smelled like cinnamon and oranges.

En søndag morgen åpnet Marta inngangsdøren for å gå en tur. Det lå en liten tallerken på gulvet. På tallerkenen var det et stykke kake. Kaken luktet kanel og appelsin.

There was a note. "It is my grandmother's recipe. I made too much. Welcome to the building. — Pilar."

Det var en lapp også. "Det er bestemors oppskrift. Jeg lagde for mye. Velkommen til bygården. — Pilar."

Marta ate the cake at her kitchen table. It was the best cake she had eaten in a long time. She did not know how to thank Pilar. She did not bake. She did not have a recipe from her grandmother.

Marta spiste kaken ved kjøkkenbordet sitt. Det var den beste kaken hun hadde spist på lenge. Hun visste ikke hvordan hun skulle takke Pilar. Hun bakte ikke. Hun hadde ingen oppskrift fra bestemoren sin.

Finally, she wrote a card. "Thank you. The cake was wonderful. If you ever need help with shopping, please knock." She left the card under Pilar's door. Now they had something to start with.

Til slutt skrev hun et kort. "Tusen takk. Kaken var deilig. Hvis du noen gang trenger hjelp med handlingen, bare bank på." Hun la kortet under Pilars dør. Nå hadde de noe å begynne med.