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San Pietro della Ienca: a memory of the Pope Wojtyla's beatification




The peaceful and seren evening comes down, damp, as the May evenings are up here, on the mountain, at an altitude of 1160 metres. Down there, the red lights of San Pietro della Ienca light on, one by one, softly, as many memories wich illuminate the small stone town, where He loved retiring to pray, by himself, without telecameras, witnesses, without believers, just with God.

Up here, dozens of people light up their torches, silently, without noise, as if they are waiting for anything or listening a distant voice that you can't listen with ears. In their hearths, there is just a sense of peace and tranquillity, wich they had forgotten for a long time.
In the light of a torch, a tear sparkles and flickers on the eyelash of  a young girl, it dilly-dallies, then it goes down and falls on the ground, as a spring raindrop that warms up the earth sleeping still in the winter ice. Neither breathe of wind, nor rustling of branches, nor tweet of a night bird accompany the dozens of torches wich illuminate this so peaceful night, moving slowly to the small town of San Pietro della Ienca and its simple stone church, wich received Him many times, screening him from summer rains.

So, this night of May 1st, the whole Nature is waiting for the Pope John Paul II's Beatification, that Pope Wojtyla who loved it so much and saw it as the miraculous God's masterpiece. So, now, it wants to render homage to its best friend and guest, keeping silent.

From the small stone church, just soft notes spread through the damp fields and the snowy peaks. And up there, in the eternity of night sky, the smile of pale moon appears.









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