Rasha looked around the table that she had set up and bit her lip. She had different Syrian baking and meals spread out across the table hoping to sell them and donate the money earned to help pay for the medical bills of some of the victims of last week’s accident. She looked around and sat down, nervous that nobody would buy anything and that all of her hard work would go to waste. Seeing a shadow she looked up and gave a shy smile. “Hi, would you like to buy something?”








