Dressed in a mid-calf, purple cotton dress with a matching raw knit cardigan casually draped over her arm, Laurel enters the room. A large, loaded down, cloth bag hangs from her shoulder, and she clutches books and papers in both hands. I am struck, as always, by her presence. Appearing calm while rushing, she gracefully takes over the room. No, the room appears larger once she enters; Laurel opens space for those present.

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