Sal Fierro

A portal opened up one day; appearing on some dusty, western horizon: and out from an older age and world stepped a man into our time and place. God crafted him out of Texas dirt and his own tobacco spit. He was a man who dug his own well with a shovel and a hammer. He was a man who scrapped for his dignity and his dignity, in the end, scrapped for him. They called him Salvador Fierro, and his salvation was forged in the fire of God’s burning heart and emerged strengthened under the cooling waters of mercy. He walked among us for a time—an integration of fury and tenderness: sometimes maddening us, mostly heartening us, always reminding us that we belong to this earth: to the place where each of us have our work to do. Go home, Sal. Take our love and admiration with you on your journey. Watch for us on the road, old friend—until it’s our time to hit that same road. We’ll look for your tread marks to guide us.

Salvador Fierro (1944-2019)
 
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dmorrison

About David Morrison

I've lived here at the community with my wife, Marsha, and daughter, Anna, since its founding in 2003. I serve as spiritual director, lawn keeper, and jokester. I'm part leprechaun as well.

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