I’m not a particularly religious person, in fact, I’d say I’m non-practicing. I could certainly voice a number of criticisms about the institution of the Church, as with any powerful institution, since it has often misused that power. But I prefer to focus on the good, especially because it brings back fond memories from my childhood.
My parents were always religious, especially my mother. Going to mass on Sundays was just a given, something we never questioned. All my friends went too, and it became our regular meeting point. I have to admit we didn’t behave particularly well, we talked a lot, laughed, and even snuck candy during the service once or twice. The priest had a great deal of patience with us, probably more than we deserved.
When I turned twelve, I joined the church choir. I wasn’t a great singer, but I learned to play the guitar and had a fantastic time. We gathered every Friday to rehearse, and it was the perfect excuse to hang out and laugh with friends. We even went on a few outings and were invited to the occasional party. For me, the image of the Church is tied to all those memories.
The photo I’m sharing today was taken in Melide. It was my first time visiting the town, and I really enjoyed walking through its streets. I took several photos, including this one. To be honest, I took it without any real expectations, just as a way to remember the visit. But while I was focusing the shot, as if by some divine sign, a stork landed on the bell tower, adding the perfect final touch. That little stork has all my gratitude, and without a doubt, all the credit for the photo.
