He finished quickly and came over to where I was sitting on my favorite spot on the floor.
The two of us looked out at the blue sky, the bare chestnut tree glistening with dew,
the seagulls and other birds glinting with silver as they swooped through the air, and we were so moved and entranced that we couldn't speak.
He stood with his head against a thick beam, while I sat.
We breathed in the air, looked outside and both felt that the spell shouldn't be broken with words.
We remained like this for a long while, and by the time he had to go to the loft to chop wood, I knew he was a good, decent boy.
He climbed the ladder to the loft, and I followed; during the fifteen minutes he was chopping wood, we didn't say a word either.
I watched him from where I was standing, and could see he was obviously doing his best to chop the right way and show off his strength.
But I also looked out the open window, letting my eyes roam over a large part of Amsterdam,
over the rooftops and on to the horizon, a strip of blue so pale it was almost invisible.
“As long as this exists,” I thought, “this sunshine and this cloudless sky, and as long as I can enjoy it, how can I be sad?”
The best remedy for those who are frightened, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere they can be alone, alone with the sky, nature and God.
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