San Galgano

Saliva trickled from the corner of his mouth, slowly, yet forming a continuous rivulet through the coarse hairs. From his chin, the drops launched into the void and became small dark spots on the ocher of the earth hardened by the frost.

On his knees, bent forward, his feet so close to the ground that they were almost one with it, he watched the small circles lose their definition.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, that was how his life had been: an insignificant mark destined to vanish.

His eyes filled with tears; he wished to look at the small cross one last time. He tried to lift his head but could not.

His thin, withered body, now devoid of strength, swayed in the icy wind that intermittently swept the hillside.

The sparse, bare trees surrendered without resistance, bending docilely and flexibly. Only the oak stood untamed and defiant, proud of its old age. It had abandoned its fruits and leaves to their destiny and now challenged the north wind, granting its fury only the pleasure of a few broken twigs. It would bear other fruits.

Not him, he was dying. Alone.

His spirit was detaching from the fragile shell that had housed it for years, and slowly the threads were breaking. Tick… tock… sparse, like the beats of his tired heart.

He wished for pain.

He thought of clenching his fists and digging his nails into the palm of his hand, or biting his lips until he tasted the sweet flavor of blood.

Suffering! To suffer. To offer himself!

Pain had been his last companion. The inseparable friend of sleepless days and nights.

It had been his treasure, his wealth. His hands were full of it.

“I suffer,” he had cried out to the stars so many times, “as Christ suffered on the cross. I suffer for you. Behold me.” Suffering was his redemption and his joy. It was the hard cash with which he hoped to pay for the salvation of his soul.

Now that his body no longer obeyed him and seemed not to belong to him, he felt anguish, like a dark cloak, enveloping him.

He had been a rebel, different from birth. He had followed the light, but the light had blinded him and turned into darkness.

He had failed, he had not completed his task and was dying, alone. He felt a terrible anguish.

Softly, almost without a sound, he implored for mercy.

Suddenly, beside him, before his clouded eyes, rose the tall and luminous figure of the angel.

More than seeing it, he recognized its presence.