He noticed me when I accompanied my daughter to learn to sing in the Sunday school.
He saw me standing with full support for my daughter.
He read my mind about the hope for the future of my daughter.
He felt a vibration that harbored my heart’s hope of my daughter’s spiritual life.
He touched my worries as a mother.
He looked at me with a lot of questions and little hope.
He photographed me and my daughter repeatedly in the churchyard.
He spoke with words of stern and simple.
He gives warmth to the children.
He offered friendship.
He told me his dream was beginning to become a journalist.
He listened to my story about my initial goal is to become a nun.
He gave me a clear picture of monastic life.
He sent me letters that live in my mind when he had moved the task.
He was the first monk who was very close in my life.
In all his words sometimes save something. As a friendship bound by a deep longing. He seemed to fill his mind with the problems of my everyday's life. But he remained there, in the monastery, the life that has he chose.But his gander stay in my mind, gave a special meaning. Friendship in the holy longing. In the monastery, there is a longing that fill him everyday.