Magazine article Sunset

Coming Home

Magazine article Sunset

Coming Home

Article excerpt

last December, my family and I landed at San Francisco International Airport with eight suitcases, two car seats, four carryons, and a rickety stroller bound with packing tape. We had just left our close-knit community and the only home our small children had ever known. We were melancholy, jet-lagged, and more than a little out of sorts. Somehow we hauled our oversize load to the tiny bungalow we would inhabit for the next few months and, fumbling for the light switch in unfamiliar rooms, embarked on the process of beginning our brand-new life.

And then it happened. The doorbell rang-and a dear old friend stood on the porch with a split of Champagne and a basket of treats from her favorite places in the neighborhood. Forty-five minutes later, my husband's closest college buddy arrived with his own family in tow and several boxes of Oakland's finest artisanal pizza. An hour after that, the doorbell rang again. This time, it was a delivery person with a bag of groceries ordered by a thoughtful colleague-bread, butter, eggs, jam, and all the staples a family of four might need for the next two days. That first night in our temporary residence, I vowed never again to take a warm welcome for granted.

Places are only as good as the people who inhabit them. …

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