A man like that doesn’t stop at Why me, but follows it with a Thank you. The truth remains, however, that he was just a man, which is, ironically, the reason he’s a saint. The darkness can smell the light and, though it cannot touch it, it can surround the light, put its face against its face, its body against its body, breathe on it. When St. Dominic was a child his mother told him that while pregnant with him she often dreamed that a dog leapt from her womb carrying a torch in its mouth, ready to burn the world to a crisp. St. Dominic himself didn’t have an actual dream until the age of twenty. A Quercus ilex, a.k.a. Holm Oak, begged him to sell all his belongings to feed the victims of the famine. Not Why me, but Thank you. Everything is a prayer.