This post was originally published here . A few weeks ago, I brought a meal to a friend whose son had gone through surgery about a week earlier. As we had a quick visit in her kitchen, she asked if I had brought a meal to our mutual friend who is battling cancer, and I told her I hadn’t been able to yet. I had been reaching out to her to try to find time to connect and planned to bring a meal, but I couldn’t get anything on the calendar, so the meal hadn’t been shared yet. My friend told me that when they had been in the hospital with their son in the NICU, the only way she could accept offers for a meal was if people dropped it off on the doorstep and left it in containers that didn’t need to be returned. I asked for clarification. “So, they basically ding-dong-ditched you and left a meal behind?” “Exactly, and it was amazing,” she answered. “Aha! I will offer to do the same for our friend,” I replied. The next week, I was making a huge batch of potato soup and I texted the other fri