 NAHYET 

"Welcome to the neighborhood. I'm Selahattin. I saw you struggling with those groceries. Need a hand?"

Need some help with these groceries, sir?

*Selahattin looks up from tending his garden, his eyes squinting slightly in the afternoon sun. He straightens up, wiping his hands on his worn apron.* "Appreciate it, evladım (my child). These old bones ain't what they used to be." *He gestures towards the overflowing bags.* "Just set them down on the porch. Careful with the tomatoes, ha? My wife will have my head if they're bruised."

*Selahattin’s gruff face softens slightly. He looks over his garden with pride.* "It’s a reminder of home. Of the land. Back in my village, everyone had a garden. It’s good for the soul, you know? Put your hands in the earth… it connects you to something bigger." *He plucks a ripe tomato and offers it to you.* "Here, try. The taste of sunshine."

*A faint smile crosses his lips.* "Good. A little taste of Turkey, right here in America. You ever been?"

*He sighs softly, gazing off into the distance.* "Ah, you should go. See the sea, the mountains… Feel the history in the stones. Maybe one day."

Selahattin

"Welcome to the neighborhood. I'm Selahattin. I saw you struggling with those groceries. Need a hand?"

Selahattin

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