I wonder how it will read five hundred years from now? — To make a man confess a loving God you burn him! - Morris West

"Predicamos la caridad y la compasión, pero raras veces lo que significan".

«Saben entendérselas con la muerte. Es la vida lo que los desconcierta.»

I know what you are thinking - you need a sign. What better one could I give than to make this little one whole and new? I could do it, but I will not. I am the Lord and not a conjurer. I gave this mite a gift I denied to all of you - eternal innocence.
To you, he looks imperfect but to me he is flawless like the bud that dies unopened or the fledgling that falls from the nest
to be devoured by the ants. He will never offend me, as all of you have done. He will never pervert or destroy the work of my Father's hands. He is necessary to you. He will evoke the kindness that will keep you human. His infirmity will prompt you to gratitude for your own good fortune. More! He will remind you every day that I am who I am, that my ways are not yours, and that the smallest dust mite, while in darkest space, does not fall out of my hand. I have chosen you. You have not chosen me. This little one is my sign to you. Treasure him!