We sat across from one another in our favorite booth and ate our fortune cookies first, having stale cryptic Asian desert before our dinner. I read hers for her. It said that to be rich you had to give away your wealth. She asked me to clarify. I explained that it meant you had to give more than receive, as true wealth was being unselfish. Or something like that. 

  "Well, I'm not rich, I don't have anything," she explained honestly. Which was true, she was barely six years old. I looked across the table at her. She was indeed penniless.

  But she had one particular skill beyond measure, and as I ate I began to notice she was doing it. She was imitating my actions so closely as to be remarkable. Being familiar with this game, I tried to make it more interesting, and she subtly mirrored my every motion and nuance. I leaned in then towards her face at some point, but the sunbeams of happiness coming from her direction broke my concentration while I also failed at trying not to laugh, which she also imitated perfectly. And then at some point I realized my eyes were getting moist with tears from some mixture of emotion, and I noticed hers were too! 


  Now that is some copycatting! I thought to myself. But then as the game further continued, I began to get confused as to whether she was imitating me or the other way around. Feeling lost in this way, across this table from this little penniless person, with our eyes moist and locked in a game of copycat, I thought again, Now this is love. And I give this story to you because, as you remember, the fortune cookie told me to.