After worship, the congregation heads down to the fellowship hall to snack and chitchat with each other. One Sunday, I spotted some macaroons on a cookie tray, and greedily picked through the assortment to grab three of them. I hadn’t had a macaroon in years, and that one cookie got me thinking about growing up next to my neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins. After her husband passed, she would have me over for chocolate macaroons and to chat in her kitchen. We would talk about what I was learning in school, what activities I was involved in, how her strawberry rhubarb was growing in the backyard garden, and other pleasantries. It was a sweet exchange; macaroons for me, and company for her. 

Our other neighbors would buy wrapping paper and citrus fruit to support our school and club fundraisers, but my visits with Mrs. Jenkins were just different. 

Nowadays, I know my neighbor’s names, and I shoot the breeze with a few of them, but at Christmas, I take cookies door-to-door, because a sweet treat just might be the difference we need.