He walked through life with his head bent , his mind high,and his thoughts, soared the skies…
“Diego always displayed, this beautiful, special ability. What would you think, my child, if I were to say that that your Grandfather could read the skies, just like we read a book?
Diego never liked to read ordinary books, no ma’am. He used to say he had his own book: The book of my fortune, written in the skies. My book, my dearest Diego would say, is alive, and it re-writes itself every day. And it contained all he needed to know to plan his days and run the homestead.
Books written on paper, Diego believed, are dead, since they can’t change with the times.”