[A sound of the bell.]

Are we ready? My dear friends, good morning. Today is July twenty-fourth, 1998, and we are at New Hamlet. We are going to speak French. The children who have just arrived are invited to draw a wave on a piece of paper. And also, they are invited to draw the water, the wave and the water. We did this during the first week of our summer retreat. And Thầy received many drawings from the children who drew a wave and also drew the water. Maybe it is easier to draw a wave, but to draw the water, that is a little more complicated. It is wonderful to be a wave. It rises like this and it falls like this. It is beautiful. But sometimes, it is tiring.

Especially when the wave is something like anger or excitement. And from time to time, we need to be the water. The still water.

Of course, the wave is water. But the wave is not so calm. But the water, it can become peaceful. It can become still. All of us, we know that you cannot separate the wave from the water. If you take away the water, there will be no more waves. And if you take away the wave, there will be no water. So the two are inseparable.

But there is a difference between the wave and the water. It is because the water can, from time to time, become very still, very calm. We are just like that. From time to time, we are a very excited wave, even very noisy. But from time to time, we need to be calm, to be still. And it is possible, it is possible to be calm, to be still.

You know that when there is no wind, the water can rest and the water can become very still. Have you ever seen still water? Of course.

When the water is truly still, it reflects the blue sky, the clouds, the trees, in a very clear way. And you can even take a photo of the sky by aiming at the water. It is because everything is visible in the water.