Mr. J.L.B Matekoni,” she asked, “do you think that our souls grow as we get older?”He did not answer immediately, but when he did, she thought his answer quite perfect. “Yes,” he said. “Our souls get wider. They grow like the branches of a tree–growing outwards. And more birds come and make their homes in these branches. And sing a bit more.” He stopped and looked a little awkward. “I’m talking nonsense, Mma.””You’re not,” she said.

Mr. J.L.B Matekoni,” she asked, “do you think that our souls grow as we get older?”He did not answer immediately, but when he did, she thought his answer quite perfect. “Yes,” he said. “Our souls get wider. They grow like the branches of a tree–growing outwards. And more birds come and make their homes in these branches. And sing a bit more.” He stopped and looked a little awkward. “I’m talking nonsense, Mma.””You’re not,” she said.

– Alexander McCall Smith –

Precious and Grace

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