One evening, Clara and Ruth sat together at the kitchen table peeling freshly boiled eggs. The moment felt simple but warm, filled with an unspoken connection. Clara found herself smiling without thinking. She wasn’t worried anymore—not about the eggs, not about whether she was doing things the “right way,” and not about fitting into a home shaped by someone else’s traditions. She finally understood that Ruth’s habits weren’t rules; they were a form of care. “I think I get it now,” Clara said softly. Ruth handed her another egg and nodded. “Life moves smoother when you prepare for it in little pieces,” she said. And in that gentle moment, Clara realized she had gained far more than a kitchen tip—she had inherited a little piece of Ruth’s wisdom.
