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When I was a little girl, my mother and our next-door-neighbor had coffee together nearly every morning in the kitchen. My mother would get out an ashtray for Pat Natti, and I'd play nearby while they talked—Mrs. Natti in her deep, raspy smoker's voice, my mother with her sympathetic "ummm-hmmms."
Morning cup of coffee with a friend: It was comforting then, and it is comforting now.
What's beautiful in your world today? Take a deep breath, and notice.
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