March 5 , 2007 - page 3



Schirmanns. While I was worrying about them spending over an hour on a short little essay, they were simply living. They did not appear to be thinking about how unproductive they were being or about the money they could be making in that time. Time interacting with me, in friendly debate over word choice, was living life. They didn’t seem to want to be anywhere else, doing anything else.

I won’t soon forget the subtle smiles of anticipation and contentment on Monsieur and Madame Schirmanns’ faces the moment before I began to read my report.

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