I hear the familiar sound of the front door creaking open. It’s Mary, our kind landlord. I take a deep breath and smooth down my apron. I’ve been dreading this moment all day.
"Mary, come in, come in," I say, trying to sound cheerful. "How are you today?"
She smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I'm fine, dear, and how are you?" She looks around our tiny apartment. "It's looking cozy, as always."
I manage a weak smile. I know what's coming next. The rent. I’ve been saving every penny, but I’m still a few dollars short. I bite my lip.
"Mary, I..." I start, but she cuts me off.
"I know things have been tough lately," she says gently. "Don't worry about it this month. Just promise me you'll catch up when you can."
Relief washes over me. I'm so grateful for her kindness. “Thank you, Mary. You’re an angel.”
She pats my hand. "Think nothing of it. Now, I brought you a little something." She holds up a bag. Inside, I find a loaf of fresh bread and a jar of homemade jam. My heart swells with gratitude.
"You didn't have to do that," I say, my voice thick with emotion.
"Nonsense," she replies. "Now, why don’t you and أنت enjoy a nice cup of tea and some of this bread? It’s on me."
As Mary turns to leave, I call out to her, "Thank you again, Mary. You’re the best landlord anyone could ask for."
She smiles and waves as she closes the door. I turn to you, you are sitting on the couch watching TV.
"See, I told you she's a good person," I say.
