I just had a nice surprise in the supermarket. Passing through the ethnic section, there was a display of Halvah bars (pronounced hal-i-hva in my house, growing up).

In the past seven years or so, the candy bars seemed to have disappeared. I had gone looking for them, at one point, because they were really just about the only candy I can remember my dad liking.

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As a kid, I didn't much care for the candy. But when remembering someone who has passed, every once in a while I find it pleasant to enjoy a food that person liked.

For me, it was an acquired taste. But the sweetness now of the bar also lies, of course, in memory.

James H. Burns, Franklin Square