Passing Words: Renato Casaro

The soul bowed and kept blustering, scrambling for words, until the sponsor hugged him tight. "Stop. Just stop." The soul stared and stared and stared some more; the sponsor eventually laughed. "What surprises you the most?" The soul looked around, puzzled, and eventually responded, "That any of it really mattered. I made posters for free movie tickets; that's how it started. I did it to survive ... well, okay, and also because I loved it." The sponsor nodded. "That's it, you know. You took the gift and you ran with it - you never abandoned it, you clung to it. You used it all ... and, I love this so very much, you did so at a time where you had to labor by hand. You were true to your art. Loyal. Appreciative. It matters more you think. Everything always matters more than you think." The sponsor had adjusted his Italian, dropping the colloquialisms that made it sound like Latin, but it was still musical ... divine. "Well, and there's you," the soul blurted out and blushed to be so bold. "You coming to fetch me." "Who else would understand and ask to come?" Michelangelo said, placing his hand gently on the soul's shoulder to steer him in.