The only hero left…


The little boy was sitting on the steps of the church, visibly hurt. Visibly in pain, even if his wounds were only bleeding deep inside the very core of his heart. Trying so hard to be angry instead of being sad.

Because boys don’t cry.


Not even when love is replaced with threats and manipulative promises.

So, when I took his hand in mine, he pulled away. With dust on his palms and face, with a recent scar, hidden behind his curtain of careless hair, he decided to take this mask and make it his own nature. Feeding the hurt with offensive words. Pushing away any attempt to melt his wild desperation.

Because boys don’t need hugs.


Not even when silence and solitude are strongly embracing their souls.

In simple words, spoken harshly and brief, he said he’s not interested. Faith. He spoke the word with hate. But he confessed the crime, expecting a punishment. Expecting rejection, yelling, abuse, fear. Hatred.

“Yes, I did it! I’m the one who broke the crucifix! Because He’s no longer my friend! And I wanted Him to feel the way I’m feeling.”

I asked him about his feelings, but he started to laugh.

Because boys don’t talk about their emotions.


Not even when it’s almost too late.

I knew that words are not enough for him. Even if they were, I still wouldn’t know what to say. I’m not that good with words. He wasn’t going to accept me, my words, my hugs, my care. So I just sit there, with him, in silence. On the stairs of the church. But the waiting game was never my favorite.

And God knew that.

So he sent us a gentle rain, through golden rays and chirping birds. Through tears and broken hearts. And, at some point, the little boy looked at me with hope. And we spoke about super heroes and their magical powers.

“What’s the point? They’re only in our imagination.”

“Well, I know for sure that one of them is real.”

“Yeah, right. Me. The only hero left…”

He wiped away his tears and headed home. To make the right choices, just like heroes do. To save his family and to restore love and protection as unbreakable laws. To rediscover his faith. Like every modern hero would. Like every true man should.

And if some day, any day, the hurt little boy inside his heart will destroy another crucifix, that’s okay too. He’ll surely find forgiveness and love, grace and blessing. As long as he believes.



Dedicated to the heroes disguised in black sheep.





Not a victory march!


“I ran to you, like running to a shelter, because my heart is heavy and tears are burdening my soul. It’s me, the one who needs you so much! Please hide me in your loving arms, even if I failed you. Love me even if I’m unworthy…”

My voice broke in a silent cry, the hurt inside made my knees tremble and I felt so fragile, standing there in front of the cross. The light was cruel that morning and I covered my eyes, but my rosary felt on the floor and, in just a second, fifteen red beans were scattered and lost, along with every trace of hope in my heart…

That’s when I lost it, that’s when the hurt inside took control and I broke down at His feet.

That’s when someone’s strong arms lifted me and carried me, holding me tight, saying warm, comforting words. The voice I knew so well…

It’s alright…

-No, it’s not! I mean it, Christian, it’s not!

-I’m here for you…just tell me what happened, I’ll fix it for you…

-Nothing happened…

But he wasn’t going to settle to less than the complete truth. He asked me to look into his eyes and to tell the story, every little detail, through sobs and tears…

“Okay…but you wont like it, you wont like me. See, I’ve always been a fighter for the things I believed in. My faith was one of them, the first of them. I made a promise to defend it against anyone and anything. But today…

…there were these people, two or three, one of them was the vocal one, while the others just followers. Lost sheep? Anyway, they were mocking the things I believe in. My faith, my God, my church. And I saw them looking at me, starring at the medal I’m wearing. How would they see it? A small symbol, something I wear with modesty and discretion, like a reminder…

…The vocal one came to me and asked me in a very aggressive and sarcastic tone: What is your faith? What do you believe in?…

…and I froze. I could have answer in so many ways, so many beautiful ways…But I just stayed silent. So he continued: So you agree that there’s nothing! He pointed to the sky. And I wanted to walk away, but he just followed me, almost shouting: What is your faith?

…and you know what I said? The coward me, the stupid, unworthy me! I told him:

“Faith is something I respect too much to gossip about it. This is not the way, not the moment to discuss my faith.”

He insisted with an evil grin on his face: “When is the right moment? After a coffee? After doing some shopping maybe? After chatting with your friends maybe?”

I ignored the questions and I ran.”


-And I cannot understand why are people like this! Why can’t we treat each other with love, why can’t we be like brothers? Why is it always someone thinking he can teach us a lesson! Why, Christian? Why are these things happening to me? Why was I so scared in front of these bullies? I hate myself for not defending my faith!

He hugged me so tight, trying to sound calm, but I saw the clenched fists, the anger in his eyes.

-Don’t ever say you hate yourself, not if you love your God. You are His child, you call him Father. So don’t, okay? 

-But why…

-Because you are a target ever since you were born. Your precious soul, your beautiful heart, your love…they’re at war, you are fighting a war you don’t even begin to understand!

-I’m losing this war, Christian…

-No! Listen, sweet girl…Love is not a victory march! Neither faith! What is that book of yours teaching you? To love your enemies. Your prayers for them are shaking and breaking the fires of hell…

That’s when I looked at him and realized the miracle of this situation. A man who denied God long ago, a man who call himself “A Luciferian”, a man who despise the church, a man who broke and burned his Bible…

…this man spoke to me words of faith, offering himself as an instrument of Love. He was more of a warrior of light than I’ll ever be.

I touched his face and he kissed my fingers.

-Thank you. From all people…

-Nah, don’t mention it. Where else would I be?

But…how did you know?

-Because I love you. Just that simple.



The source of the image:




Before you hit the ground…


“I was brought here by the power of love. For you to open your heart…to fly back in time and space. She needs to be saved…”

We were standing on the top of a mountain, on early spring. The snow was still white, but, under my bare feet, it felt warm. I knew the story by heart, I carried with me like a precious memory, a lesson of destiny, but I was wrong. And the burden made my shoulders ache, made my soul burn…

The little girl is still there, clinging to her father’s shoulders. He carried her like she were a pair of wings. But the rain was cold and frightening, awakening all the sleepy monsters, all of her fears. Afraid of falling, terrified of the highs that turn so suddenly into abysses. 

The bridge was unstable and slippery, shaking under their feet. The rain turned into storm and the coldness made her tremble. It was the dark of death that blinded her eyes. She knew, she felt the falling long before it happened. 

Because in a world where seconds turn into years, wings get cut and hearts get broken. And Children are always caught between the stormy souls of their human angels. 

Her human angel fell on the slippery bridge and the little girl -his wings- saw the abyss too close. And nothing held her anymore…nothing but her love for life, her faith in a God of mercy, her innocent hope in a brighter tomorrow.

“I was brought here by the power of an honest prayer. That’s all she was clinging to. With a storm above her and death waiting bellow, she needs her angels now.”

But…I don’t know…

…and I can’t…

…and I’m afraid…

…that I’ll hit the ground, like I do it all the time!

And this is not my mission! See, Guardian Angel, she saved herself! She got back to the bridge, with hands and feet full of bruises. She helped her father stand! She looked up to the sky with bright eyes…

He shake his head.

“No. She never saved herself. She looked up to the sky with angry eyes and with a broken heart. She may be alive now, but her trust in people, her hope for a miraculous salvation, fell and died into abyss.

And you…lost little girl…you’re still trembling every time you’re contemplating storms and highs and loneliness…

I was brought here by the power of a bright hope. Fly there, take her in your arms and keep her safe and loved.

Because no child should ever feel helpless.

I cried on the top of the mountain. Haunted by the old helpless and painful feeling.

“Don’t be scared and don’t ever forget. Before you hit the ground, there are always wings growing in your soul. And you know what’s the real miracle?”

You always knew how to fly high. 



The source of photo:

This heart needs a second chance!


I was there when it happened! The usual me, never really crossing the line. Happiness and misery, hope and despair, life and death, always in the middle. Always a bit of a victim, a bit of a hero, never truly myself. But, this time, I was there!

It was the forgiveness in his eyes that made the wall crumble down, so that my soul cried real tears. The door he opened for me wasn’t meant to take me to complete bliss and the road wasn’t the romantic journey I dreamed as a child. It was tough, it was painful, it was pure. It was love. It was the path to self-discovery. And I was there!

It happened so many times before, but I always missed it somehow. Blame, guilt, anger and depression. The inner voices can be so mean! The morning light can be so cruel! So I was hiding in dark places, never truly there in spirit. Only in body, and bodies are so weak. Today, for the first time, I was there, the complete me!

And I saw the light and I felt the embrace.

I was forgiven and so loved! The fears were shaken to the ground and I learned to love back. Agape…sweet Word, what made me worthy of your blessings?

I was there when he came to me, with his promises and his love.

Because He was there for me.

To love this foolish heart of mine. And to give it a second chance.


From this silly, dippy, goofy heart of mine!


“Give me a sign!” he said. “A sign that you’re real. And I promise I wont question your miracles, never again!”

“Show me the scars, give me a proof!” he begged. “A proof that you went to the deepest of hell. And I swear, I wont deny you, never again!”

“Fill my mind with images of Heaven!” he cried. “So that I’d know what’s beyond the gate. And I give my word to you, I wont reject you, never again!”

I gently touched his face and took his hands, to help him stand.

You’re being so, so silly…

He laughed. “Maybe…but, from this silly, dippy, goofy heart of mine, words pour like golden crystals. And they create smiles. They build love. So I’ll be silly! Again and again and again…!”

But he broke his promise.

I filled his mind with images of Heaven, so beautiful, so bright, so pure. He took every one of them and tear it in little pieces, throwing them savagely in a sea of tears. “There’s no gate and there’s no Heaven” he shouted angrily, rejecting my open arms…

I showed him my scars and I told him about a kind of pain he’ll never have to endure. It was out of love, it is still…out of love. “Fake!” he pushed me away, warning me to stay out of his way…

In the end, I gave him what he always asked for. A sign. He’s alive because of this sign and, for a moment, he was grateful. A brief moment, because his arrogance became stronger and he took it for granted…every breath of fresh air that was given to him out of mercy. My mercy.

He lost the poetry along with his innocence.

His music is nothing but disturbing noise and his lyrics are filled with venom.

So tell me, why would I still love him? Why would I still protect the man and the whole mankind, from the adversities of these wild times?

With a saddened heart, I listened to His message, but how would I answer…when I’m so small, when my faith seems so fragile and poor…

Still, falling on my knees, I let my heart speak the honest truth. The only truth I know, the only truth I’ll always believe:

Because, my Lord, in these silly, dippy, goofy hearts of ours, we still carry a little light. It’s in the name of your LOVE that we, the lost ones, the arrogant, the self-sufficient, the angry and the sad ones…we ask YOU to make our lights brighter.

So that we could find forgiveness. 

So that we could be healed.


I see it in your loving eyes…


“Be careful, people may notice.”

The boy was standing right next to me in the bus station, but, if it wouldn’t have been for his playful smile and his bright blue eyes, looking straight into my soul, I would have thought he’s talking to someone else. Even so, I decided to play it carefully.

-Excuse me? I don’t understand.

“It seems like you lost a few feathers. People will realize you’re an angel. Pretty hard to hide it, especially when you’re just learning how to use your wings.”

I guess it is the shock on my face that made him laugh even harder, but (to my own surprise) it didn’t bother me to see him laughing. And I find myself laughing with him.

(Laughing? Me?)

“Can I introduce myself to you, Angel? My name is David and I’m a…”

But I didn’t let him finish his sentence. I want to say something funny or spiritual, or to lean to touch his reaching hand, so I move my arms and it happens!

Feathers! White feathers! All around me!!!

And they’re many! And (surprisingly, again!), in my desperation, I jump and I move my arms up and down! And then I see…

“Oh, please don’t fly away. Stay with me!”

I’m aware of my blushed cheeks and I’m also aware that I’m a bit weird, jumping like I’m ready to fly. But, at least, I see now where the feathers are coming from…

“It was when you searched in those bushes, saving the injured kitten. That’s when you tore up your coat.That’s when you captivated my poor, helpless heart.”

(Yes, I did it…I saw the old lady in front of the bushes, desperately trying to save the kitten. Her fur baby. That’s how she called it. I protected my hands with the coat, while fighting the thorns and the kitten’s sharp claws. But that’s a whole different story…)

-Are you a poet, David?

He stopped laughing a while ago, but his smile still warms the air around us.

“Guilty as charge! And you, Angel, are you a Muse? The kitten’s guardian angel? Or just mine?”

I smile back, watching the white feathers around us, dancing in the wind.

-In need for my guardian angel, I guess. Just look at me, how I’m tearing up and breaking and…”

He stops me from speaking, removing a feather from my hair, with the softest, gentlest gesture.

“You can fix this, I see it in your eyes. Your loving eyes…don’t think they go unnoticed. Protected and beloved, that’s how you walk through this world.”

-That’s beautiful! Is it from one of your poems?

“It will be one day. A poem about the miracle of a feather lighted heart, carrying the weight of the world…a miracle. A blessing, maybe?”

The bus is here and I see him waving at me before disappearing in the crowd. It’s 9:14 in the morning…

And I thank God once again for His never ending signs.



Who am I beneath the lies?

Butterflies-Free-Desktop-WallpaperAll the love in the Universe and an endless gentleness reflected in his eyes. What a blessed, precious moment, to be taken by the hand and leaded to the silver stairs…

-The time has come, precious soul. Who are you beneath the lies?

Ashamed and empty, I can’t find the answer. I don’t even remember how and why, when and where my truths were replaced by lies. My conscience is a bleeding wound and my sorrows are piercing through this false serenity…

-Don’t cry, sweet little heart. Facing the truth is never painful, is all about healing. Isn’t it why you called me? 

And the blue of a pure sky is smiling closer to me. And I can’t remember my own lies. And I don’t know the meaning of truth. I lost it…

-Another lie? You said you’re lost in the darkness and that was a lie too. How could you be lost when your light is my light and I saw it shining brighter than the stars?

And you called yourself “desperate” and “lonely”. You spoke about the lack of love. When have you stopped loving me? Because I still do. I still love you. 

No! These are all lies! My lies…I never stopped loving him, I never…I just…stopped loving myself…

-You said you’re restless, you said you’re scared. You wrote stories about fallen angels, about flying with broken wings. Beautiful, perfect lies…my graceful butterfly. I want to be your wings, will you let me? Will you dedicate your gentle flight to me? Will you be loyal and will you be faithful to the one who puts you above all?

I cry crystal tears and they’re the water of life that my soul was so thirsty for. I will. He takes me into his loving arms and I am saved. The little runaway finally found her home. He is right, truth is never painful, never in vain and love is above anger, forgiveness is above resentment. His love is above my guilty conscience.

-No, I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to take away this burden. Look into my eyes. Who are you beneath the lies?

Who am I beneath the lies? Oh, Lord, who am I? Will I ever know? Please bare with me, I’m almost there. I feel the answer, just like I feel your love. Forgive me for every bad word, forgive all the lies I ever said to myself in my blind search of freedom.

For now I know who I am.





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Unaware of her light

1696e5ff-98cb-470e-8d98-d7ce15c398b6Inappropriate, inadequate and immoral. Those were my thoughts when I saw him laughing and joking at the funeral. Of course I didn’t said anything, neither did the others, it would have been so impolite. I know, yes, I know…laughing in front of a tragedy is a defensive mechanism. Even so…

And it’s a tragedy when a young man dies, leaving behind a beautiful wife, a child, parents, grandparents and so many friends. He wasn’t a friend of mine, I didn’t even knew him, but my husband did. That’s why I’m here. Surrounded by grieving people and this man that laughs of anything…

It’s my party so I’ll laugh if I want to…

He’s singing now, looking straight at me, no doubt about it. I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m sad…and a stranger is singing to me in front of a crowd.

He’s touching my hair and that’s too much.

I don’t think I know you.

-Oh really? You don’t think you know me! Well, you don’t. Let’s keep it this way, shall we?

Too late. Hey, do you know the wife? Isn’t she a hottie?

-Please show some respect. She’s grieving…

She’ll live and she’ll love again. So will you.


He’s taking my hand and I go with him, like hypnotized. Away from the crying people. Away from the pain and loss. He looks deep into my eyes and I feel he knows my deepest thoughts.

You will live and love again. If you only allow yourself to get out of this tomb. If only you stop analyzing everything in terms of “mistakes”.

Just think about…

“It is a mistake that he’s laughing and making jokes at a funeral.”

“It is a mistake that he’s singing in front of the crying people.”

“Oh, what a mistake, to call the grieving wife…a hottie!”

“It’s a mistake that I’m so restless and I keep searching for love in all the wrong places.”

“Wait…isn’t it a mistake that I’m talking to this guy?”

A million mistakes and not a single ray of light! Not a single word of love! Phew, what a shame!

I want to shout at him and I want to cry…I want to ask him how does he know about me? What kind of a creature of darkness has told him my most secret doubts?

Darkness is when you repress the light inside you. When you chose not to share it, not to let it shine. That’s darkness, that’s evil…

I think I see regret in his eyes. A sweet nostalgia, like longing for something he’ll never have. Or is it me? Is it my heart the one that longs for an old forgotten love?

Unaware of her light, she builds prisons, higher and stronger, to imprison her heart…When will you change the story? 

He smiles at me, waving goodbye.

And, for the first time, I cry at his funeral.





Wasn’t it supposed to hurt?


He was waiting for me by the lake, but I couldn’t look into his eyes. The early spring surrounding us had a special kind of glow. He knew I’m looking for this spring ever since I know myself…

“It just wasn’t meant for me…”

I said it so many times, in so many ways and now, that my time has passed, I just realized that it was always possible. But I have chosen winter instead of gentle warmth.

The lake was never that calm and blue and the waters are deeper than ever. I see my image reflected in it, just like a mirror.

“I’m too broken to love…”

I felt it so many times that it became a part of me. The poetic self, the blue heart, the rivers of tears, it was so beautiful to meditate, to write and to cry over my sadness. Over my loneliness. And I never seemed to choose happiness.

“But I was here all the time.”

Yes, he was. Indeed, he always cared, even when I stopped carrying about myself. And now he’s looking at me, inside me. Does he contemplate the struggle and the hurt? Does he see a terrible, frozen, stoned heart – the heart of a woman who never learned to give herself to love?

“All I see is a beautiful child, who imprisoned herself, for no real reason at all, behind bitterness and resentments. And I am sorry. I did it all to open your eyes…I protected you till sacrifice, I treasured you like a miracle that you are. I gave you everything and I loved you more than I loved Heaven.”

From where I’m standing I cannot see the bottom of the lake. I cannot feel the depth of his sadness. Every time I hurt myself, he feels a pain thousand times sharper than my own. And I hurt myself every day, every hour, even now…

“When you say you’re not worthy of love…”

“When you say you don’t want this life anymore…”

“When you say you have no one…”

He is right in every way! And if an endless abyss would open at my feet, it still wouldn’t be enough for me to hide my eyes. My guilty, teary, hopeless eyes…

“Don’t hide from me anymore, I will always love you. It’s not supposed to hurt, my child…Love it’s supposed to be beautiful. To flow freely like the blue waters. Rise up in love and look into my eyes…

Do you see ME now?”

I do and I recognize you, my Savior and my Lord. My Healer and my Love.



Image copyright: elen_studio – Shutterstock


She’s in love with another fool…

32803-xlI hugged him even tighter, almost afraid that I might lose him in this crowded, colorful place. “I guess we came where we were supposed to…” he said, but the loud music covered his voice. Masks, laughs, lights, colors…his blue eyes looking through me, beyond me. Starring at the beautiful ballerina and her dance partner, he seemed to forget I’m there too…

I took my eyes from him for just a second, following a playful little light…and he was gone, like he would have been just a romantic fantasy of mine…

She fell. The beautiful ballerina fell. And, in that terrible, dramatic moment, the music stopped. All the masks turned to watch her crying in agony. All of them, forming a big, thick, dark wall around her. I can’t see her, but their voices…oh, how loud…Oh, how cruel!

-What a fool, to fall like this! I thought she’s better than this!” (the woman wearing the crown)

“-She has no dignity to cry like that, in front of us all!” (the lady with the long black dress)

“-And she ruined the party! What a selfish, self-centered brat!” (the old couple)

“-He pushed her intentionally! All men are the same! Aggressors, liars, cheaters!” (the two women dancing with each other)

“-No, it’s only her fault! For being weak, for allowing him to abuse her!” (the man with high voice)

“-Poor girl, you broke your leg. But I understand you…We, women, would do anything for love!” (the middle age woman with a broken rib)

“-She needs to find and to heal the deep pain that made her stay in an abusive situation…” (the therapist)

“-Not at all! She needs a man in her life, a real man! To take care of her needs.” (the man with the black mask)

“-What she needs is to follow her man, to ask God for wisdom when he treats her…not so delicately. ” (the medieval priest)

“-So, where was God when she got hurt? Nowhere, right? She needs to live her life, to enjoy the present because that’s all she has!” (the atheist)

“-Here, take these pills! You’ll be free of pain!” (the trembling-hands woman)

“-Hahaha, you fools! She’s just pretending! Look at her, she’s just desperate for attention!” (the cruel-voice clown)


I really had no choice, but to push them away. To give her my coat and to help her stand. To open my eyes.

sad_ballerina_new_image_color_expression_hd-wallpaper-1576313-540“Leave me alone…you…all of you!”

They left. What remained was the pain. And him, standing beside me.

-Why did you pushed me?

-I did not.

-Don’t lie. It hurts more than the wound itself.

-Baby, I did not. I fell and I dragged you with me.

-Why didn’t you let me go when you felt like falling.

Tears rolled down from his blue eyes.

Because I love you too much to let you go.

She’s a fool, in love with another fool. She knows it and still, she’ll follow him to the moon and back. Because she loves him too much to let him go.