When we were in the San Clemente Church, and went down to the twelfth-century Basilica. I saw some carvings on the wall, and a thought struck me. The man who carved that was born just like us, was raised, went to school, learned how to carve, had a wife, maybe had kids, and most probably died quite earlier than we will. Let’s say our carver lived to age 50. This man’s lifespan passed almost 100 more times, and we, students and tourists, are seeing his writings. They were mostly preserved quite well, and his writing is read by hundreds of thousands of visitors every day. It is kind of corny, but the amount of people this guy touched after he died was probably way more than we can even dream of, and he was just a carver.
