An accident Danebra was a beautiful woman, that's what I thought when I was six. She had big blue eyes so deep that I could even see myself when I looked at her. She lived two houses from me. Every day after school I would pass by her house and she would give me candy, which was so sweet that now I still remember it. Danebra had a nice house. I was the only kid in the neighborhood allowed into her house. His living room was comfortable. The couch was so comfortable that I could sit on it all day and sleep on it. The bookcase was in the corner of the room and contained so many books that I once believed Danebra had all the books in the world. Most of the books were about cooking. The living room usually smelled of the roses she placed on the table. Danebra always bought new roses every day even if yesterday's rose was still beautiful. “I love the smell of fresh roses,” she would say when I asked her why she only used the rose for one day. His kitchen, connected to the living room, was small and smelled like biscuits. Danebra was a skilled biscuit maker. She made thousands of kinds of cookies: chocolate, strawberry, cranberry and any other flavor she liked. The best flavor was the maple syrup. I didn't know how she prepared it but the maple syrup cookies were the most delicious. I could eat ten at a time. His room had only a bed and a small bookcase. The sheet and blanket were covered with numerous photos of three young girls. She told me they were gifts from her friends. There were many photos on the wall. All of them were Danebra herself since she was little. She was chubby and very cute when she was five. Then, the older she got, the thinner she got. ...... middle of paper ...... somewhere. It was his way of giving me a treat. It was in his cookies. It was in her rose. It was in the photo of her and her husband. Even the police confirmed that her husband's death was not her fault. However, everyone in my neighborhood ostracized her. No one wanted to be near her or talk to her. I tried to wave to him while I was walking home with my mom. She smiled happily at me, but then quickly walked in when she saw my mother's hateful look. I was sad when I found out Danebra had moved. It was so sudden. I missed the sweet taste, the smell of roses, the cookie-smelling kitchen and the cozy living room. I stopped by her house once after she left. I wondered if she remembered me. I wondered if she still gave candy and cookies to another six-year-old girl. I hoped people where she lives would see her kindness so they wouldn't be afraid of her past..