From Karen Gordon

Reeling back time, I came to conjure the little boy who was my last neighbor before we bought this farm...the little boy who I used to find hanging out on my cabina hammock at any time of the morning or afternoon, the little boy who regularly visited me to drink tea next to my wood stove (especially when he smelled something baking!), the little boy who always asked  if I would give up my rocking chair "just for a little bit" so that he could sip his tea, eat a snack, and tell me a story that he'd thought about in school that day. He said rocking helped him tell the story, of course!  My memories of the many 500-colon veggie burgers we ate that year at Dona Flori's are intricately connected to Lev...95% of those burgers were eaten with Lev across the table from me.  Lev was the first person with whom I ate homemade donuts (God bless Edith on those Friday afternoons), and he dragged me over time and again (when he wasn't a self-appointed delivery service) to sample Tony's post-school afternoon snack creations, which starred papaya milkshakes.  I fondly remember gazing out my cabina windows, seeing Lev on the roof of the car, gathering the moco-fruits at our driveway's entrance and then lying down on that same warm roof, enjoying his bounty as the dappled light, or light mist,  fell down on him. 

Lev was a scowler....but do you know what?  He never scowled at me....yes, I saw him practicing scowling,  but when his brown eyes met mine of blue, they glinted and crinkled into a sweetness and playfulness that tickled an indescribable place within my heart and brain at the same time.

I truly believe that Lev was the first little boy I felt like I really knew, and truly cared about.  I remember recognizing that fact during your family's  last visit to Monteverde, when we came over for a potluck with the band.  I saw Lev talking and playing with Christopher....at 2 1/2, all he wanted was to climb up and down the stairs inside your house.  Experiencing Lev, with his peach fuzz moustache, sitting next to me at dinner and asking me earnestly how motherhood was going, made my heart melt.  He quickly said, "Nice job, because Chris is a cool little kid..."....and then he joined my little man on the stairs again, playing, goading, talking, whispering, and giggling for the next 30 minutes.  Whenever I'd get close,  Chris would panic and say "NO, mama, this is MY time with LEV, please GO" . . .I fully understood the large, pubescent, no-longer-little-boy-Lev had my little boy wrapped in a tale of fantasy and adventure that would surely spin on into Christopher's dreaming hours that night.  I remember driving home to San Luis and commenting to Fabricio how much Lev rocked my world, how Chris simply fell into and wanted to swim in the space that Lev created, and what an amazing, bright, unique being he was.  For days and weeks, Chris would ask me, "Mama, remember Lev?"

Yes, I do remember Lev.  As if he were right here, in my living room, rocking on my chair and spinning these tales just for me.