"When I was young they took me out back and shot me like a dog. I started to rot, and my corpse came to feed the flowers. That night, I dragged myself out of the ditch. The grass, damp with the night's dew, stained my belly more than it already had been. When I got to the side of the road, I had already exerted most of my energy and I collapsed in prostration."
"It was in that moment that I knew the love of the Saint, for despite the blood and dirt and rot and mange He embraced me all the same. And so it was that my wound consecrated that ground and thus became the Holy Saint's Grave."
