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“What is it, Father, why are you crying?” asked Karl. “Tears of joy and pain, my child. Of joy that there are still patriots ready to give their lives for this country, and of pain because they are so young when they do it. These,” he said, caressing the crosses he passed, “are our holy crosses, which spring from the bodies of our heroes and are watered with their blood and the tears of those who knew and loved them. That’s why I’m crying, my child, understand?” — Costi Boșneag
What is it, Father, why are you crying?” asked
Karl.
“Tears of joy and pain, my child. Of joy that
there are still patriots ready to give their lives for
this country, and of pain because they are so young
when they do it. These,” he said, caressing the crosses
he passed, “are our holy crosses, which spring
from the bodies of our heroes and are watered with
their blood and the tears of those who knew and loved
them. That’s why I’m crying, my child, understand?