Sophia stood in front of the open fridge longer than she meant to. She was staring at some hard-boiled eggs that had already been peeled and sat neatly on a shelf under a plastic lid.
When she was growing up, her mom was very careful with food. She always checked dates, smelled things, and never left leftovers out for long. So seeing peeled eggs sitting in the fridge for days felt strange to Sophia. Her mother-in-law, Margaret, had boiled them ahead of time and kept them there, just like she did with soups, cooked grains, cut-up fruit, and many other things.
Sophia quietly closed the fridge and skipped the eggs. But she kept thinking about them all day.
That afternoon, she went outside and saw Margaret working slowly in the garden, wearing an old shirt. Sophia watched for a bit, then gently asked about the eggs.
Margaret smiled and said she boiled a batch every few days to save time. They were ready for quick snacks or breakfast, especially on busy mornings. That was it—no big reason, just something that made life easier.
Over the next few days, Sophia paid closer attention. She noticed that everything in Margaret’s fridge had a date label. Leftovers were used up in order, and nothing was wasted. Margaret had her own careful system that had worked for years. She prepared food ahead so that being hungry never felt like a problem that needed fixing right away.
Sophia’s childhood was different. Food was either eaten fresh or thrown away—there was no middle ground. In Margaret’s kitchen, food felt calm and reliable.
Little by little, without really planning it, Sophia started doing some things Margaret’s way. She washed vegetables as soon as she got home from the store. She cooked a bit more rice than needed. She thought about tomorrow’s dinner while making today’s. Nothing big changed, but her evenings felt less stressful.
One evening, Sophia and Margaret sat together peeling eggs for dinner. They chatted about everyday things—the weather, small errands, people they knew.
Sophia felt comfortable now. The eggs didn’t worry her anymore, and neither did doing things a different way. It wasn’t about one way being right and the other wrong. It was just a different way to take care of daily life.
“I think I get it now,” Sophia said.
Margaret smiled softly. “It helps,” she replied. “That’s all.”
Later, as Sophia put the leftover eggs back in the fridge, she smiled to herself. They were just eggs. And that was exactly the point.