Perhaps many readers and friends will be surprised by this title, wondering how to tattoo a name like this in the deepest and most intimate part of a human being! With this brief story, you will be able to understand it.

It was the year 2014 when I was enjoying the sweetness of retirement, engaging in a series of activities I had been preparing for. To my ears came the name of a place located on the shores of the so-called "Sea of Galilee," the place of Mary Magdalene (the apostle of the Apostles "from whom Jesus cast out seven demons").

Having met the requirements for my acceptance, I presented myself in Magdala in July of that year. It had been only a month and a half since the doors of "Duc In Altum" had been opened to the public: pilgrims, faithful, and tourists of any religious belief could experience prayer in a symbolic place loaded with history and beauty.

The feast of Mary Magdalene celebrated with all solemnity, included the Holy Mass and a delicious meal that allowed me to interact with people like Father Juan, the assigned priests, the consecrated women, the archaeologists, and volunteers from various countries, mainly from Mexico and Spain.

That first year, I was assigned to the archaeology team. What an engaging experience! It was exciting to see traces of what was once a city, covered by sand and forgotten.

The weekly walks not only led me to discover corners of the Holy Land, but they were a fundamental factor in interacting with other volunteers. We formed a true family.

As everything comes and goes, the time of my departure also came, leaving behind with nostalgia that land from which I had only tasted the first candy.

A second year came, a third, and more, in which my yearning for Magdala seemed to grow stronger. Always with the hope of returning to collaborating in whatever I was assigned, of enjoying the wonderful "Sea of Galilee," the blue of its waters, the change in tone in the Golan Heights as the sun made its journey, contemplating the permanent silhouette of Mount Arbel, the starry sky, and the wonderfully colored moon.

Enjoying the silence and solitude in the middle of the lake, adoring the Blessed Sacrament, imagining the passage with his disciples and the crowds that followed him.

So many experiences and memories pass through my mind, impossible to capture in these lines. I have worked as a kitchen assistant, driver for some priests on their trips to Jerusalem, and collaborator in small maintenance works in the volunteer house. But what has influenced me the most is the responsibility of Duc in Altum. For all of this, I feel blessed.