Watching these people and the way they interacted with each other, I could not help but be impressed. But there was another feeling, difficult to define. Was I possibly jealous of this Quechua family? There was no denying that I who had never known poverty or hunger felt, if not jealous, at least envy for their ability to enjoy so completely each other, their work, the meager food and homes they shared, and all that was around them. I had learned that Andean Indians often talk to nature. It is not uncommon to hear a man or woman murmur words of greeting to a bird, flower, or cloud. Such things are a part of their lives and the source of immense pleasure. Was it possible that these people knew something I did not understand? Could I learn from the Quechua what my own culture and background had failed to teach?
All that matters is to be at one
with the living God
to be a creature in the house of the God of Life.
Like a cat asleep on a chair
at peace, in peace . . .
feeling the presence of Peace
like a great assurance
a deep calm in the heart
a presence
as of the master sitting at the board
in his own and great being
in the house of life.