Motioning me to scoot over and sit beside him behind the low table – his grace, his fragrance, which I later learn is sandalwood – he slips his glasses from a little case, takes his pen from another case and – brushing my arm with his shoulder, the soft rustle of cotton, and jolts of electricity shoot through my neck and I am overwhelmed with well-being.“Now, in keeping books there are always two sides, income and debit” (debt? dabit? What did he say?), and he slashes a bold line down the middle of the page and writes INCOME above one column and EXPENSES above the other. Under “Income” he jots down Sales, Donations, and Fees – fees? – and under “Expenses” he writes Rent, Food, and Flowers. His script is flowery and bold. Minutes (feels like hours) pass as I reel with comfort, his voice a gentle murmur in my ear.Then: “So, what is your understanding of the purpose of life?” What! Did he just say …? “Well, er, to become one with God?” “Yessss. God is one, yes, but you are also one. So there are two. You and God. What is that relationship, you have to understand. Gradually you will come to understand. Now, this is the important thing: bookkeeping. So you come every morning and sit down here and I will show you …”