I have found a loving, caring presence as I have listened to my dreams, listened to the silence in the middle of the night and meditated on scripture. In my deepest experience of worship and Eucharist, and in my time of quiet companionship with God, I have met a Divine Lover. I find this Loving One is always there desiring to draw me closer to Love. Again and again, I hear gentle suggestions, when I listen in the midst of troubles, that my best way through them is by practicing unconditional love.
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?