Everything I have done, rather than serving the goddess, is more about seeking a reason for my existence in this lifetime, trying to plant a bit of human kindness within the cracks of the faith barricade through my own strength.
My devotion has long shifted from facing the altar to the hearts behind it.
...
The turning point occurred on a deserted night.
I was wandering in the garden behind the church, the night sky was clear, the air was silent.
A pink light suddenly rose from the church.
Light and slow.
Landing in the palm of the goddess cradling the rosebud.
It was a pink gemstone the size of a thumb, like a dandelion seed.
I brought it back indoors and placed it on the desk.
It was beautiful, indescribably beautiful, as if it would change with the viewer's state of mind.
I initially intended to report this to the Church, but as if driven by a mysterious impulse, I withheld the information and kept it.
After some time, I noticed changes among the town's residents.
