The woman is eyeing a lovely lemon quartz teardrop wrapped in silver. She hefts it, places it to her breast and takes in her reflection in the mirror. She checks the price. Is it worth it? She decides yes, and hands me her bank card.

Each piece of silver in this store, each book and dusty figurine has a price, a worth. I'm surrounded by value. But more to my dismay, my life, my thoughts and deeds are defined by the measurement of value. How nice is this day? Is the snow good for the crops? Was that video worth watching? Do I deserve a rest? How much do you love me? Monetary value, entertainment value, production value, time saving value, relationship value....

I'm obsessed with value at the moment because my friend John Smeltzer
just returned from New Jersey where he played spoons with that most revered Irish traditional ensemble, The Chieftains. Am I jealous? I'm livid. What does John have that I lack? I can play rings around him. I have thirty years of performance experience under my belt. What makes him more valuable than me? Ironically, it's his Down's Syndrome. The audience went wild. Why does it thrill us to see a broken person keep up with the masters?

The politically correct wisdom du jour is that John isn't broken. He is held up as an example that we all have worth if one looks with a new eye. But perhaps what affects us about John is the reverse. There's a voice inside that says if you really knew me you'd know I have no intrinsic value. I'm only worth how others measure me. That voice is quieted when I see John on stage. I get infused with a greater sense of my own humanity and feel love on a deeper level. He reminds me I am loved just for being me.

L'Arche, the organization through which I met John, was founded by Jean Vanier, who says, "The vocation of L'Arche is to eat at the same table as people with mental handicaps." He does this not as a form of altruism or charity, but to learn what it is to be human. A deeply religious man, he says that when confronted with human brokenness and weakness, people often find a God whose love is without limitation.

He washes their feet, not to seek humility but unity, to wash away caste, judgment, class, and discover ourselves as all in the same boat, the same ark. I sat at a table at L'Arche and felt myself detach from the burdensome concept of value altogether, and simply sink into the experience that we are all sacred.

When John isn't playing with the greatest Irish bands of our time, he takes his spoons into the field and plays with the wind and grass.

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