A sentence that can be engraved in stone.

"Faith does not ask for money, because it does not promise power - it is only present and keeps."

The bench where nothing was asked

The old church bench creaked when the woman sat down.

She had no money.

She did not bring anything with her, only her heart.

No one spoke to her.

They did not ask what she had given so far and what she would give in the future.

The light came in through the window.

It was not hurried.

It was not selective.

The woman remembered the loud promises:

the ascension,

the chosenness,

"now or never."

And there, on that old bench, she understood that where they hurry you, they do not wait for you.

Where they set a price for light,

they do not want to shine, but to sell.

There was no discount here.

There was no next level.

There was no list of those who were "better."

There was only silence.

And a feeling he had known for a long time: that he didn't have to be more than he was.

When he stood up, he didn't become "ascended."

He didn't get a title.

He wasn't promised anything.

But his steps became easier.

Because he realized: faith doesn't lead anywhere — it leads home.

And what takes you home never asks for an entrance.