My first night in Boston, I was picked up at the South End train station by Judy, a gray-haired woman with deep brown eyes and wire-frame glasses. My new neighborhood was swathed in darkness. But the ivy-covered brick buildings still struck me with awe as we walked down Dartmouth Street, my wheeled suitcase bumping over the brick sidewalk like an eager puppy. Nothing looked like what I knew back home in Michigan.
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