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April 2, 2002
I lived with Zara for the first three years of her life. One day, bag in hand, she headed for the door. “Where are you going?” we asked. “To work” she replied. “What kind of work do you do?” we asked. “Green work” she said. I still wonder what green work meant to her then.

Shortly after I moved, she came to visit, and I gave her rice cakes for lunch. Her face lit up: “Popcorn bread!” she exclaimed.

I feel nostalgic for the time when we used words spontaneously, for no other reason than they described what we meant.