It Is A Small World

As I was sitting on the back of a pickup truck yesterday, me and a few others were talking about where we were from, etc. When said Philly, one of the girls asked me where. I told her Northeast Philly, and then I asked her where she was from. She said Abington, and it suddenly hit me, I was in 6th grade at Glenside Weldon with her. She was in Haiti with her father and her younger sister.

This afternoon, I was talking with her father, Jim. His bunk is directly across from mine. We were discussing the projects we were working on and the subject switched to the types of people that work with us. I told him how the only reason I was able to go was because USLI generously allowed me the two weeks to do so. He talked about his own life. He previously owned a custom woodworking company, but three years ago he said he started to feel hollow. He made the decision that he was going to sell the business. He told his partner that he was either going to have to sell the business with him or buy him out. They chose to sell.

There was a certain serenity about Jim. He seemed to be totally happy with his station in life.

"I haven't worked in three years," he said, "If you asked me where I'll be five years from now, uh, I dunno...Angola maybe? I feel like I'm 21 again, aside from the aches and pains."

I look forward to more conversations with Jim. It is obvious that he has alot to say, and it would be stupid not to listen.