Old men around
TO MY left are middle-aged men gathered for a Bible study. Their dicussion is on Paul's phrase "the eternal weight of glory," taken from the apostle's letter to the Corinthians. CS Lewis wrote a book with the same title. Male human laughter is really one of the best sounds on earth (I must qualify, though, that I cannot tolerate male drunken laughter; I find it obnoxious). And that's what these men do—discuss, then laugh, then drink their coffee, then discuss again.
Their meeting is free-flowing. They digress into other topics, like careers and friends and their experiences in UP—hello, schoolmates. I overhear many of these things as I tackle my study materials for the day. Their insights are refreshing, their questions piercing, their responses gracious and scriptural.
To my right are two gray-haired men playing chess. They're serious, their brows wrinkled in deep thought. I'm not good at chess, unfortunately—I wish I were. All I do is protect the queen. I have no skills in strategizing. Chess players must be the smartest people on earth.
I'm glad there are no noisy teenagers around. Maybe they will arrive soon. When that happens, I hope I resist the temptation to eavesdrop.
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