Maxine A Moncrieffe (Maxwanette A Poetess)
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A Bittersweet Surprise at Sweet Maresa’s
My sister and I never planned to enter Sweet Maresa’s. We had passed it before, and though it felt oddly familiar, we never went inside. That day, after leaving RUPCO (housing) without seeing anyone, we wandered down Wall Street in search of coffee and a doughnut. A kind stranger directed us to The Urban Fork, where we found incredible doughnuts—but no coffee. The seller suggested we try the bakery across the street.
Stepping inside Sweet Maresa’s, we were stunned. The bakery felt like a portal to our childhood home in Brooklyn. Our mother—a baker, seamstress, poet, and more—seemed to be everywhere. The Singer sewing machine, dressmaking mannequins, a seahorse statue, a peacock card, orange marmalade, pink ribbons for breast cancer awareness—it was as if she had left pieces of herself in that space.
Then, the most emotional moment unfolded. On a high shelf, we spotted something we had been searching for—our mother’s candy dish. Tears streamed down our faces. Seeing our reaction, an employee, who was also grieving a parent, handed it to me as a gift. Only later after going home and Googling did we realize she was Maresa, the owner herself.
Though we came for coffee, we left with so much more—memories, gratitude, and a connection we never expected. Sweet Maresa’s is now our bakery, and we’ll be back. If you visit, tell Maresa and Sarah that we sent you. You won’t regret it.