I have never met a person without a cross. Some carry a large cross and others a small one. Some have a heavy cross and others a lighter one...

Some bear it without complaint. Some cry in secret. Some, along the way, sometimes become weary and rest. Others carry it on their shoulders. Others on their back. And some hold it tightly in their arms. Almost lovingly...

And some drag their cross... Anyway, everyone carries something. Everyone has something. The key is not to give up. The key is not to throw away your cross. May the end, the passage, find you still holding your cross. The cross that has befallen you. That is the point.

And if sometimes you feel you are at your limit, lift your eyes high. A great cross, a great Resurrection, my brother. A great cross, a great Resurrection...

Until the Resurrection comes, let this book be a small breath...