“Brother Renian and I buried a squirrel there when we were ten years old. A tree sprouted the following week. It grew white blossoms in spring, and not even the abbot could tell what species it was. Everyone in the abbey called it the Squirrel Tree. We all thought it was a miracle and that perhaps the squirrel was a servant of Maribor who was thanking us for taking such good care of his friend.”
[Later comment: There were a lot of things I thought might be explained, but weren't; like miracles.]
