Thank you for the pilgrimage. It stopped my deadened time and passage of days (what Jimmy calls "the Xerox years" and I might call the Xerox minutes and Xerox days where everything looks the same) by interrupting it with something beautiful and unexpected.

A concrete symbol of that beauty for me became John carrying his rosary in his hand as we walked along. John's faith--his remembering to bring a rosary (something I forgot to do) was the image of a pilgrim for me.