I called out after him.
He turned his head and looked at me with eyes that reflect the idealism of the youth but wisdom beyond his age.
I found him asleep by the ruins of an abandoned church, with his flock of sheep. I wanted to ask him things I never figured out myself. But even words seemed to escape me as I stand perplexed by his presence.
“Is it worth it?”
I murmured foolishly.
But that wasn’t what I wanted to say… I wanted to ask him why he left the seminary to become a shepherd. Why did he exchange his three Spanish gold coins, his only priced possession, with a flock of sheep? I knew that he wanted to travel. Seems I knew the answers to my questions myself. But what I don’t know is the courage he had to leave everything behind him, to pursue…
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