I went into the kitchen to slice some cheese and wash the grapes. David had really gone all out—he’d bought so much that it took me by surprise. I decided to put the leftover cheese and the bag of grapes in the fridge. When I opened the door, there it was… a salad in a crystal bowl, already chopped and neatly arranged, as if it had been waiting. I froze, startled. Where had it come from? David and I definitely hadn’t made anything like that.
Our family is just me, David, and our son Thomas. We get along well, though like any household, we have our little surprises now and then. David loves treating us to nice things, often stopping by the supermarket after work and bringing home something special—maybe exotic fruit, unusual cheeses, or sweets. That day, he came back with a whole bag of groceries: several types of cheese, grapes, cured meats, fresh bread. I joked that he must be planning a feast for the whole neighbourhood. We were just going to have a simple dinner that evening, maybe watch a film—nothing out of the ordinary. I started prepping, slicing cheese, washing grapes, but there wasn’t enough room on the table. I thought I’d put the extra in the fridge so it wouldn’t spoil.
Then I opened the fridge—and there was that crystal bowl. We’ve got a set like it, passed down to me from my grandmother, but I hardly ever use it, saving it for special occasions. And inside the bowl was a salad: fresh cucumbers, tomatoes, herbs, the dressing glistening as if it had just been tossed. I even rubbed my eyes, thinking I must be seeing things. David and I certainly hadn’t made any salad, and Thomas is still too young for that kind of cooking. And who would use the good crystal for something so ordinary? That bowl’s practically a family heirloom!
I called David over. He peered into the fridge, stared at the bowl, and looked just as puzzled. “You didn’t make this, did you?” he asked. I shook my head. We started running through possibilities: maybe one of the neighbours had popped in and left it? But the door had been locked, and no one had come by. Maybe I’d forgotten making it myself? No, I’d been busy cleaning all day, not cooking. David even joked that maybe the house fairy had decided to treat us. We laughed, but it still felt a bit unsettling.
Thomas overheard us talking and dashed into the kitchen. “Mum, maybe it was a real fairy!” he declared, dead serious. His imagination made us smile, but the mystery remained unsolved. We tried the salad—it was delicious, fresh, with a light dressing of olive oil and lemon juice. Nothing unusual in the ingredients, but the fact it had just appeared in the fridge in a crystal bowl kept nagging at me.
Then I remembered—my friend Emily had stopped by that morning. She sometimes drops in for tea when she’s out walking nearby. I gave her a call and asked if she’d left anything in our fridge. Emily laughed and owned up. Turns out, she’d made the salad for a family dinner, but her fridge had broken, so she’d left it with us temporarily while she sorted things out. Since I’d been busy cleaning, she didn’t want to disturb me and just popped it in the fridge. She’d used the crystal bowl to make it look nice, thinking we’d guess it was hers straight away.
David and I sighed in relief. It was all much simpler than we’d imagined—no fairies or house spirits involved. But the whole thing became a little adventure for us. Thomas still asks now and then if any “magic food” has appeared in the fridge. And I always check what’s in there before putting anything away now. Emily apologised, of course, but we just laughed. She even offered to make salads for us next time.
The whole thing reminded me how important it is to cherish those little moments. Life’s full of surprises, and even a simple salad in a crystal bowl can turn into a story that brings the family together. David and I decided we’d surprise Emily next time—maybe leave something tasty in her fridge when she least expects it. And now I use that crystal bowl more often, not just for special occasions. It’s become a reminder that even on an ordinary day, there’s room for a bit of magic.