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I still pray the prayers I learned as a child—Hail Marys, Our Fathers—but I don’t imagine a wise, heavenly father listening patiently on the other end of the line. Instead, I imagine love, an ocean of love, the very source of love, and I imagine myself merging with it. I open myself to it, I try to direct that tide of love toward the people who are close to me, hoping to protect them and bind them to me forever and connect us all to whatever there is in the world that is eternal.
Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home
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