A small, small world

Here's a little background to the story I'm about to tell.  Trust me, even though I am notorious for telling somewhat unnecessary background stories, this story will make more sense if I tell a background story first.  I was born in Illinois, in the suburbs of Chicago.  Until  I was in first grade, we lived in Streamwood.  And then we moved to Georgia.  As far as I remember, I never went back to Streamwood.  Tada, pretty short back story.

Last week, my brother was in Illinois for a job interview.  Tuesday, he texted me and asked if I had a second to talk.  My brother and I talk about five times a year on the phone, so I was a little nervous that something had happened and called him back right away.  He asked me if I remembered any of my friends from Streamwood.  I said, "Not really..."  Then he told me he was in the office at mom's apartment complex to ask them a question and the girl that worked there asked him if he had lived in Streamwood.  "Yeah..."  Then she asked if his name was Chris.  "Yeah..."  Then she asked if he had a sister named Teresa.  "Yeah..."  Then she said, "Your sister and my sister were best friends before you guys moved!"  I remember her sister.  Not a lot, but I do remember her.  But I didn't remember any details about her family.  My brother and I couldn't believe that she remembered him and me.  That was over 25 years ago!  Funny how small the world can seem at times!