“Do you need sesame oil? It was on sale, so I picked up some extra.”
“I’ve still got plenty. My mother-in-law always makes it for us.”
“Lucky you. I have to buy mine.”
I’ve never had to buy sesame oil. Every holiday, my mother-in-law would give me a bottle, saying, “I pressed this from domestic sesame seeds—don’t bother buying any, just use this.” Looking back now, I realize how much quiet effort she put in over the years—buying good sesame seeds at the market, washing and drying them at home, and taking them to the mill to be pressed—all so that she could give us the very best. But I had taken it all for granted. I accepted the sesame oil without a second thought, never truly recognizing the love poured into it. Now, as I see the half-used bottle beside a fresh new one, I finally feel her heart. When I twist open the lid, a rich aroma gently rises—carrying with it the unmistakable scent of love.