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 boede alene i en lille lejlighed. Hendes nye nabo, Doña Pilar, var en gammel dame. De så hinanden i elevatoren en gang imellem, men de snakkede 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 åbnede Marta sin hoveddør for at gå en tur. Der lå en lille tallerken på gulvet. På tallerkenen var der et stykke kage. Kagen duftede af kanel og appelsiner.

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

Der var en seddel. "Det er min bedstemors opskrift. Jeg lavede for meget. Velkommen til bygningen. — 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 kagen ved sit køkkenbord. Det var den bedste kage, hun havde spist i lang tid. Hun vidste ikke, hvordan hun skulle takke Pilar. Hun bagte ikke. Hun havde ikke en opskrift fra sin bedstemor.

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 sidst skrev hun et kort. "Tak skal du have. Kagen var vidunderlig. Hvis du nogensinde har brug for hjælp med indkøb, så bank bare på." Hun lagde kortet under Pilars dør. Nu havde de noget at starte med.