“The midday summer sun spied on the praying people with a dazzling yellow eye. There were few of them, but the power of common prayer was so great that the number did not matter. Everyone asked for the secret, filling what was happening with a mystery unknown to the rest of the world. Moving their lips almost silently, they only occasionally raised their eyes to steal a glance at the appearing deity. Not a statue or an icon, completely alive and obvious... His appearance was simple and majestic, like nature itself. As befits a Higher Power, It was right in front of its flock, higher and further, sitting on a forged iron altar, as if on the dividing line of the worlds. The sacrament was not decorated with gold and the solemn walls of the temple. Between the altar and the people lay only a few meters of dirty ground covered with bird tracks. So close that prayers were heard, and so far away that the Deity remained a deity... And only one of them could approach the altar a little closer than the others. He knew more about the Divine than others. Knew when it would return. And he knew what it wanted..."