W. said he had stayed up all night praying that night, and at dawn, he got up and walked to the bus station to buy a bus ticket. He was now back at home, decades later, taking care of his mother.

…huge teardrops were falling from his face as he bent over in prayer. He showed me the crucifix he was wearing as a pendant, and he said, “I know Jesus. I know the Holy Spirit. I kiss this cross every morning, every day.”