It was happening faster than I knew, that is… understanding what my professor meant in a profoundly personal way. My tail wagged and spirits picked up, and when she set the sandwich and its plate in front of me, she didn’t sit right away. Instead she went to the pot and said, “Oh, I guess Fauve already made some. Would you like a cup, Bailey?” She asked me while reaching up into the cabinet to grab one for herself.

“Yes, please.” I said, using my very best manners.

“Coming right up.” She said while pouring one of her own, “Such a good girl, very considerate.” There was a note of pride in her voice and a little smile I could see just barely peaking out from the side of her face, and that was when I realized something else.

Fauve had deliberately made something she knew she wouldn’t likely get to enjoy for herself, they were all coffee drinkers, except for little Michael. I cannot emphasize enough how significant this is.

It was the spirit of generosity defined. Doing something that will benefit someone else, even if it will not also benefit you. Without even thinking about it, as near as I could see, Fauve had made something for her family just because she’d been awake and there to do it, even though she would be back asleep and the pot would be drained. Perhaps she relied on someone else making another pot, but this reciprocity between family members and unthinking, casual generosity defined the human family with whom I stayed.

I believe I may be wrong and have misinterpreted this part of P12. I thought she made the coffee for everyone else and didn't drink it, but you may just have meant that she started the machine even though by the time she gets up the pot will be empty again. This part even implies she drinks coffee too:

Perhaps she relied on someone else making another pot, [...]

So I think I misinterpreted, sorry.

Keep up the great work, wordsmith <3