Evening drifts up from the valley. Inside me—fear. Not of demons, not of ghosts; those shadows left me long ago. My fear is this: that I can no longer meet the eyes of the stars without reproach, without remorse.
At the village edge a church still stands. The roof caved in, the walls half-broken. Small, ruined— yet nowhere on earth is there a temple more my own. Christ on the cross greets those who enter. His arms spread wide, pierced by nails and bullets. My hands are empty. No gifts to bring. A handful of gratitude, and a small heap of bitterness: that’s all that remains. And still—I come to You in trust, that You will accept the first and forgive the second. Today no bells— only my heart beating. No incense— only my prayer rising. Let its smoke be white: a sign of hope, the last to remain. In spite of evil. Habemus Spem!
by Vladka Marie