When I observe our most elder people in the community, it is easy to assume they are sort of little shells of  a life  lived long ago. I see them shuffle or amble slowly at the market, sometimes shaky limbs reaching for the milk, or a hesitant hand pick over a bin of tomatoes.  They seem hollow, as if getting to the market and home is about all they can manage. I often wonder what keeps them going?  Looking from the outside it seems impossible that they have anything motivating them to go another day in this complex world.  Generally…