"Between France and Spain is a range of mountains. In one of those mountains, there is a village named Argeles, and in the village is a hill leading to the valley. Every afternoon, an old man climbs and descends the hill. When the wanderer went to Argeles for the first time, he was not aware of this. On his second visit, he noticed that he crossed paths with the same man. And every time he went to the village, he perceived the man in greater detail -his clothing, his beret, his cane, his glasses. Nowadays, whenever he thinks about that village, he thinks of the old man, as well -even though he is not aware that this is true.
Only once did the wanderer ever speak to the man. In a joking fashion, he asked the man, “Do you think that God lives in these beautiful mountains surrounding us?” “God lives,” said the old man, “in those places where they allow Him to enter.”
(Paulo Coelho: Maktub)
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