IT IS SPRING...

The years go by, some friends change, wrinkles deepen, passions fade, but love never dies. This is the love you always taught me to have for life, for work, and for family. I can say that dreams do come true, for in you I see the living proof of that. A hardworking man, honest and brave. “Nothing comes to us on a silver platter,” you used to say. “We must fight, and everything becomes possible.”

Among the many things you dreamed of as a boy, what you loved most—and did best—was poetry. You wrote books, painted pictures, and music was always a part of who you were. In our home, there were speakers even in the bathrooms. You even became a craftsman and made my first little bed, a tiny white cradle that I keep with love and great affection to this day.

I thank you for being my father, for my siblings, and even for the sermons which, in my view, could have been a bit fewer—but which were always meaningful to me. Today, once again, I come to thank you for giving me this space in your new book. Success you already have, because success means reaching and touching someone’s soul and heart with words—and that you do naturally, with the gift God has given you.