“If you look up,” she said, “you can see the saints in the sky, these are the stars. These are the people that Jesus has saved. He can see you from up there where he resides.” I just remember looking at the tiny glowing dots and wondering how on earth a person could get so high up. “I can’t see them” I told her. “If I can’t see them, and they are with Jesus, how can he see me?”“He can see you.” She told me. “He always sees you.”
This is the story of Fernando, as it was told to me. I did my best to reconstruct the story with the fragments that were given to me over time, shared in reminiscent pieces as the memories were dug up slowly over late nights and mournful moments.
That faith that allows me to talk to the hero of the book firsthand, the thing that I watched my great grandma do everyday. The faith that taught me that the book, over time, would become my best friend. It made me the person that I am today. There is so much still waiting to be uncovered by that book, and every day, the seeds that were planted grow and take root, transforming into a garden more refreshing and more life-giving than even the most beautiful of gardens that I sat under the shade of all those years ago.