"'At twenty, I had already lost all the people I loved and even the ones that I might have loved, such as the big sister who had died, so I was told, six years before my birth. I was not old enough to make my first communion when I lost my mother, who did not have the happiness of seeing the day to which she looked forward as a great day. She wanted two sons, one a doctor and the other a priest; my brother was a doctor and, in spite of everything, I have become a priest.'"
(André Frossard, Be Not Afraid!, 13)
