Here we are yesterday afternoon … all seven of us.  We are guests of the Pratershol, a community centre in my Gent neighbourhood of Patershol.

The seventh was a well-loved devotée of the centre.  I’d walked into a community.

Marc is the fellow in the grey sweater.  A few months ago he took me on a rambling walk through un-touristic Gent, much to my delight.  He’s such a welcomer.

Yesterday the conversation, full of smiles, was naturally in Dutch.  Marc took care to speak slowly so hopefully I could catch on.  But mostly I didn’t.

I watched the faces as their words blew by me.  There was animation in the stories but usually I didn’t know the situations.  It didn’t matter.  My newer and older friends were including me, happy that I was sitting at their table.  What life is all about, I’d say.

The host volunteers were a couple from Ukraine.  I made them smile with my vocabulary of four words.  I welcomed them as I was being welcomed.

There will be a time when I will sit as this table speaking Dutch to my friends and enjoying their stories.  Even though that time seems far away, I know it will come.

It was comfy in the Pratershol, even as I leaned forward to understand.  Focus … dissolve … focus … over and over again.

***

Being home is far beyond understanding

And being understood

It is being known and loved

Smiles for no good reason