He had been a composer in another life — a choirmaster in a small parish by the sea. His daughter, Consolación, had the voice of a small, bright bell. Every Easter, she would sing the Alleluia alone, standing on a worn wooden step, and the whole congregation would weep.
Father Miguel sat beside him, a small tin of holy oil in his pocket, though he no longer believed in its power. “You asked for a priest,” Miguel said quietly. “I’m not much of one anymore. But I came.” alleluia alejandro consolacion pdf
Alleluia.
(For Consolation — with all my love.)