Nothing made her feel worse, or get more surly, when she trespassed over someone's grief. So her quiet, "I'm sorry about your mom," was not exactly full of holiday cheer.
"All my life," she said. The plate received a pile of turkey slices as the crowning touch before she held it out to a small boy in shabby clothes gazing up at them. Her infrequent smile made an appearance for the kid. "Born here. Live here. Probably die here. It's nice that you keep up your mom's traditions. The Triangle needs more people to remember where they came from and give a little back."
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