Crumb of souls, crumb of love, crumb of true faith. Musky notes of vetiver, frankincense and lilac. Whispers, no voices. Subdued, without fanfare and pretentious melodramas. As true as the mother's tear, the groan of the sick, the wailing of the afflicted. Bright as the smile of the child, the hope of the believer, the joy of the healed. Reading one after another, bending over their sufferings and joys, empathizing and experiencing with them these humble moments of their lives, we see them as an infinite whole, which can contain us all. We also become part of this totality, so that the crumbs become bread, the souls become the Church and the Church Christ. A Church full of miracles that take place secretly in our hearts. Miracles called "Love".

Real people in their little true stories,
that perfume humanity and perfume divinity.