My grandma is always dutifully attending to her front yard—watering her potted plants and sweeping away fallen leaves. When we can't figure out where she is, it usually means she's on the third floor, attending to the altar for my grandpa and to Quán Thế Âm.
I can't remember where I went that day, but I do remember returning through the larger street that links to the alley where my grandma's house is and seeing a chè stand. I had a craving for it so I went back with my uncle and he bought one for my grandma too. She likes sweets and enjoyed the cup of chè we got for her, noting how tasty the coconut milk was.