Don't forget, my friend, that we are children. The Lady of the sweet name, Mary, is withdrawn in prayer.

You, in that house, are whatever you want to be: a friend, a servant, an onlooker, a neighbour… —I, at this moment, don't dare to be anything. I hide behind you; full of awe, I contemplate the scene:

The Archangel delivers his message… Quomodo fiet istud, quoniam virum non cognosco? —How shall this be done since I know not man? (Luke 1:34)

Our Mother's voice brings to my memory —by contrast— all the impurities of men… mine too.

And then how I hate the low, mean things of the earth…What resolutions!

Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum.— Be it done unto me according to Thy word (Luke 1:38). By the enchantment of this virginal phrase, the Word was made flesh.

The first decade is about to end… I still have time to tell my God, before anyone else does: Jesus, I love You.