For the first time in my life I doubted an honest act of kindness. The poor fellow. All he wanted to do was share a box of homemade cookies with me. And they were delicious.
He had a nice smile, well-dressed, young, Arab. And who wouldn’t like a box of cookies?
When I ran into him the next day in the stairwell I thanked him and found out where he got the tasty cookies. He felt bad for an elderly woman standing outside our local market selling her homemade cookies piled up in an old baby carriage, and he was happy to share a box with me.
Maybe he just likes helping old folks. We do like cookies, but to my astonishment, I, uhm, I began to suspect that this kind young kid might be a terrorist spy?! I am not even sure where the thought came from (could it be me?), except for all the movies and news reports that talk about some too-goody-two-shoes that lives next door and nobody suspects of being a murderer or working for...
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