Librería Samer Atenea
Librería Aciertas (Toledo)
Kálamo Books
Librería Perelló (Valencia)
Librería Elías (Asturias)
Donde los libros
Librería Kolima (Madrid)
Librería Proteo (Málaga)
Bouquet of SorrowsThe days have been strung to weeks and the weeks to a month like pearls are strung in a necklace. My mind is exhausted, and my body is drained with all that encompasses the dreaded phrase 'terminally ill' attached to a loved one. As I sensitively walk down the hospital’s quiet corridor, to my right side, I see a small sign that reads 'chapel.' And I am immediately, as if by an invisible force, drawn toward it. 'Medicine to my soul,' I think to myself. Perfect, at this late hour of the night, it will only be my God and me. I am ready for a heart-to-heart conversation with God, and I sigh in relief. Slowly I open the door to the chapel, and walk in. I am so ready for questions, and answers. Inside the chapel, the light is dim, but I can see a silhouette of a woman knelt in front of a wooden cross. Even though I can only see her back, she seems familiar to me. I feel as if I know her and her story. I stay still not wanting to perturb her praying. Suddenly, I am sure; I know her, her thoughts, her pains, and her sorrows. I know it, because her thoughts, her pains, her sorrows, they are all whispering to me . . .
