While looking out the window yesterday afternoon, my arms full with my favorite bundle, I noticed an elderly gentleman several houses down. His stooped figure methodically paced his driveway, carrying bags of leaves to the curb two at a time. With more than a dozen bags to arrange neatly at the end of his driveway, and with his painstakingly slow gait, this task took quite a while, and I could not resist watching. I perceived a steady, unrushed pace, a sort of devotion to his task on a chilly, damp autumn day, and a dignity with which he treated this chore. He did not appear frustrated or resentful of the leaves (as I might have been after so many trips burdened with the bags), and concluded his journey with a wave to another neighbor who was raking in her yard. I wondered if he were meditating or in prayer as he worked, perhaps reflecting on how many more times he would be able to see the leaves fall in this world. It reminded me that the ordinary tasks of this life are opportunities to offer what we have to God and to accept whatever role we find ourselves cast in this world. I should be more grateful for the simple tasks I have been given. Particularly as the Advent season begins, I hope to cultivate an improved attention (a non-anxious watchfulness), and fuller attentiveness to simple tasks. Only God knows which dish will be the last one we can wash for our spouse, the last diaper we can change, or the last bag of leaves to carry down the driveway of our home. And we never know who may be watching us through a window.