The Philosopher

The Philosopher in me started when I was a child. I loved to listen to my grandmother, who aside from being a deeply religious person was also practical, and philosophical when it came matters of life and living. She was the foundation, the rock on which our family was built. Her soft voice and calm demeanor shielded an aloofness, detached, impersonal coolness masked by her kindness, generosity, and compassion. I loved being near her and with her, it gave me a feeling of security. She possessed great strength and calmness that I felt when with her or whenever I thought of her. Grandma was always my most favorite person on the planet. I had always felt a special bond with her.