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Sarah, Elena’s sister, reached into her bag and pulled out a small, framed photograph. It was a picture of Elena as a young woman, standing in front of this very shop forty years ago. In the photo, she was holding a bouquet of sunflowers, and she was standing next to a man who looked exactly like my own grandfather. It turns out my grandfather had been the one who sold her her very first bouquet when she moved to the neighborhood, and he had given it to her for free because he saw she was lost and lonely, sparking a connection that spanned decades.
