I visited my internship supervisor’s home last week. She welcomed Ann and me in, and we got the chance to meet her two precious little boys. One, speaking English perfectly (learned from school…but mostly Cartoon Network) met us where the cab dropped us off and politely made conversation as he led us up the hill to their home. The other, constantly in motion, would occasionally stop and look at me and say something (in Bosnian of course). I tried to explain to him that I didn’t speak very much Bosnian, and he just stared back at me, puzzled, and smiled. My supervisor brought out a pitcher of lemonade and some watermelon out to the terrace, and started to go back inside to make the coffee when her son called after her. She answered him, and seemed to sympathize with his plight. I asked her to translate, and she said that he wanted her to stay on the terrace with us instead of going in to make the coffee. She then told him that if she didn’t go make the coffee, there wouldn’t be coffee to drink. He responded, intelligently, that she should stay here with him; because the coffee would make itself.
At the time, this was adorable. We laughed at how silly that sounded, but I remember that it struck me. How much do I focus on getting things done, and moving on to the next task, instead of realizing the importance of the moment that I’m in right now?