“Honey, give me the sponge, I will show you!”, Ms. Van der Spoel kindly puts a hand on my back, guiding me away down the ladder on which I was standing to reach the top window. Her fragile body replaced mine, shuffling up the little stairs. Step by step she reaches the top. Her hands, shaking with old age, seem to remember what to do. With a firm, smooth movement the window is clean, and I give her an impressed applause, replicating her exact movement a few moments later.