Old Stuff

Godlike

I saw in my 6 year old son this morning the truth of one of Chesterton's aphorisms (which I must paraphrase here since the book's at home). My son went with me to my weekly Cursillo group reunion, which we hold at a picnic table in a local park at 6:30 Thursday mornings, and he spent the entire 90 minutes

• gazing at a windmill,
• running around with a clump of tall dry grass, and
• watching ants climb a tree.

The most godlike portion of a boy's life is spent in doing nothing.

(I made my retreat on the first weekend in March 2001. De colores!)