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Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening PrayerRay BorrettBible verseIsaiah 66:5 Thought for the dayDeb BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 66Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer Handbookprayer handbook WTW 2026.pdfSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening PrayerRay BorrettBible verseIsaiah 65:1 Thought for the dayDeb BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 65Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer Handbookprayer handbook WTW 2026.pdfSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship. CreditsOpening PrayerRay BorrettBible verseIsaiah 64:8 Thought for the dayDeb BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 64Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer Handbookprayer handbook WTW 2026.pdfSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship. Opening PrayerRay BorrettBible verseIsaiah 63:17 Thought for the dayDeb BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 63Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer Handbookprayer handbook WTW 2026.pdfSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening PrayerRay BorrettBible verseIsaiah 62:4 Thought for the dayDeb BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 62Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer Handbookprayer handbook WTW 2026.pdfSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Saturday, February 21, 2026 by Dr. Fawzia Al-Rawi The Qur'an speaks to the body, the heart, and the invisible depths of the soul. Among the gifts it offers us are six verses that God Himself calls “the verses of healing,” āyāt ash-shifā'. These verses are not metaphors, but gateways where the Divine Word meets the human wound. During this gathering, we will explore and experience the way in which God heals: through words, light, dhikr, and the awakening of the deep heart. Rosina-Fawzia Al-Rawi Al-Rifai was born in Baghdad. She holds a doctorate in Islamic studies and studied Arabic language, Islam, and ethnology at the universities of Vienna and Cairo. She lived for twelve years in Jerusalem, where she deepened her knowledge of Sufism, both in theory and in practice, with her master, Sidi Shaykh Muhammad Al-Rifai. Since 2001, she has lived in Vienna and has been dedicated to transmitting Sufi wisdom and its traditions. Her teaching is particularly addressed to women and aims to build bridges of understanding between different cultures in order to contribute to peace in the world. Fawzia Al-Rawi is the author of several books, notably “The Call of Allah – a companion for the sacred month of Ramadan.” The Verses of Healing – Āyāt al-Shifā' In the Qur'an, the “verses of healing” (āyāt al-shifā' / آيات الشفاء) are six in number. These are the verses in which the word shifā' (healing) or the verb yashfī (to heal) are mentioned. They are recited for the purpose of healing. قَاتِلُوهُمْ يُعَذِّبْهُمُ اللَّهُ بِأَيْدِيكُمْ وَيُخْزِهِمْ وَيَنْصُرْكُمْ عَلَيْهِمْ وَيَشْفِ صُدُورَ قَوْمٍ مُؤْمِنِينَ “Fight them; God will punish them by your hands, disgrace them, grant you victory over them, and heal the hearts of a believing people.” (Surah 9 At-Tawbah – The Repentance, verse 14) يَا أَيُّهَا النَّاسُ قَدْ جَاءَتْكُمْ مَوْعِظَةٌ مِنْ رَبِّكُمْ وَشِفَاءٌ لِمَا فِي الصُّدُورِ وَهُدًى وَرَحْمَةٌ لِلْمُؤْمِنِينَ “O mankind! There has come to you an exhortation from your Lord, a healing for what is in your hearts, and guidance and mercy for the believers.” (Surah 10 Yūnus – Jonah, verse 57) يَخْرُجُ مِنْ بُطُونِهَا شَرَابٌ مُخْتَلِفٌ أَلْوَانُهُ فِيهِ شِفَاءٌ لِلنَّاسِ “From their bellies comes a drink of varying colors, in which there is healing for people.” (Surah 16 An-Nahl – The Bees, verse 69) وَنُنَزِّلُ مِنَ الْقُرْآنِ مَا هُوَ شِفَاءٌ وَرَحْمَةٌ لِلْمُؤْمِنِينَ “And We send down through the Qur'an that which is a healing and a mercy for the believers.” (Surah 17 Al-Isrā' – The Night Journey, verse 82) وَإِذَا مَرِضْتُ فَهُوَ يَشْفِينِ “And when I fall ill, it is He who heals me.” (Surah 26 Ash-Shu‘arā' – The Poets, verse 80) قُلْ هُوَ لِلَّذِينَ آمَنُوا هُدًى وَشِفَاءٌ “Say: For those who believe, it [the Qur'an] is a guidance and a healing.” (Surah 41 Fuṣṣilat – Explained in Detail, verse 44) For more information, visit our website: https://consciencesoufie.com/

La Fundación Rafael del Pino organizó, el día 4 de marzo del 2026, la Conferencia Magistral «La gran transformación global» que impartió Branco Milanovic con motivo de la presentación de su último libro de igual título. Tras la conferencia dialogó con Miguel Almunia.

La Fundación Rafael del Pino organizó, el día 4 de marzo del 2026, la Conferencia Magistral «La gran transformación global» que impartió Branco Milanovic con motivo de la presentación de su último libro de igual título.

La Fundación Rafael del Pino organizó el 2 de marzo de 2026 a las 19 horas , la Conferencia Magistral titulada «Voces liberales: Aprendizajes del apogeo y caída de las grandes civilizaciones» que impartió Johan Norberg con motivo de la publicación de la obra de igual título publicada por Deusto. Tras la misma el profesor Norberg dialogó con Francisco Beltrán.

La Fundación Rafael del Pino organizó el 2 de marzo de 2026 a las 19 horas , la Conferencia Magistral titulada «Voces liberales: Aprendizajes del apogeo y caída de las grandes civilizaciones» que impartió Johan Norberg con motivo de la publicación de la obra de igual título publicada por Deusto.

La Fundación Rafael del Pino organizó, el día 18 de febrero de 2026, la Conferencia Magistral «Inteligencia artificial e innovación» que impartió Omar Hatamleh con motivo de la presentación de su último libro de igual título editado por Deusto. Tras la conferencia dialogó con Álvaro Martínez Higes.

John Schoenheit is a founding member of Spirit & Truth Fellowship International, which began in January 1989. He has invested over fifty years in Bible study, holds degrees in theology and philosophy from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and has studied archaeology in Israel with Hebrew Union College and taken courses atContinue reading "110 Revised English Version – John Schoenheit"

La Fundación Rafael del Pino organizó, el día 18 de febrero de 2026, la Conferencia Magistral «Inteligencia artificial e innovación» que impartió Omar Hatamleh con motivo de la presentación de su último libro de igual título editado por Deusto.

The ecological transition applied to mobility is often presented as a constraint. However, for an overwhelming majority of French people, cars remain essential: 85% say they are dependent on them daily, and up to 90% in rural areas. Getting around means accessing employment, healthcare, and social life. This reality is highlighted in the new episode of the On The Way podcast, through the findings of the study "French Car Budget - 2025 Edition", conducted by Roole.This study reveals a key figure: the average budget allocated to cars is €416 per month, equivalent to nearly a third of the minimum wage. Even more striking, two-thirds of this cost is not related to usage, but to fixed, non-negotiable expenses (purchase, insurance, parking, maintenance). This insight is essential to understanding why mobility weighs so heavily on households and why 15 million French people are currently in a situation of mobility precariousness, having already given up on a trip due to lack of solutions.Beyond the observation, this episode also highlights Roole's commitment to more responsible, solidarity-based, and fair mobility. Among the initiatives presented: "Donnez votre voiture" (Give Your Car), a platform that allows you to donate a still-operational vehicle and deduct the residual value of your car from your taxes! These cars are then put back into circulation through solidarity garages, benefiting people in difficulty. A simple, eco-friendly, and solidarity-driven gesture that restores mobility's fundamental role as a tool for social inclusion.And because commitment doesn't stop there, discover also the Roole Map application: the first all-in-one app designed for your vehicle, whether it's thermal, hybrid, or electric. Need an optimized route? A gas station at the best price? A available charging point? An accessible parking lot 24/7? Roole Map accompanies you simply, daily, to facilitate all your trips.

CRUISE TO MARS | THREE DUCKS ON A JOURNEYMama duck had two daughters, and she loved taking them on trips to faraway places. The two ducklings had few friends, but they often went out and about.They played in the farmyard pretending to be a group, and even on their birthday, they ate the big cake all by themselves.As a gift, Mama decided to take them on a cruise to Mars. She organized the trip on a spaceship for tourists, got tickets for an intergalactic Martian party, and departure as soon as possible — before you could say "quack quack."While all three of them were in the yard ready for the trip, they saw a strange object flying low over the farm. Landing on the ground, a small square figure appeared at a hatch and said:"Excuse me, are you the ones with three tickets to Mars and three for the intergalactic party?"The ducklings looked at each other in amazement. They had never seen a square creature before — square head, square eyes, even the smile seemed square."Yes, that's us!" replied Mama duck."Quack! Quack! Quack!" chimed the ducklings in chorus, hopping with excitement."Please, come aboard," said the Martian with a little squared bow. "The journey to Mars is about to begin."And in one leap they boarded the spaceship, so curious and excited for this new adventure. The strange vehicle took off as fast as a gust of wind.In space, it was rush hour. The spaceship found itself in a queue, and the Martian pilot honked the horn: "Bleep, bleep!"He leaned out the window and grumbled: "It's getting harder and harder to travel! Look at that, there's even a playful little planet spinning around on itself like it's a carousel! Oh, what fun — move over, let me pass, and keep on playing!"Due to the cosmic traffic jam, the spaceship landed on Mars slightly behind schedule."How wonderful!" exclaimed the ducklings when they saw a ship made entirely of glass, ready for the cruise, where they were invited to come aboard.There was a great bustle of small square Martians."Good morning, Mrs. Duck, please make yourself comfortable!" they said with a bow, while the ducklings — quack, quack, quack — chattered and hopped about happily.In the background, square guitars played Interplanetary Rock.The three travelers, with their little faces pressed against the windows, gazed in wonder at the red color of the planet.The ship set off slowly across the sand, but suddenly the engines began to roar and up, toward the top of a mountain, then down over the red rocks — it felt like being on a roller coaster, up and down, up and down. Then it would settle again and slowly cross immense valleys."What a strange sight! What a strange vehicle that travels over rocks and sand!" the tourists commented.The hours passed amid wonders and discoveries. Time flew by.Evening came. On the Martian ship, Mama duck and the ducklings showed up all dressed up, with bows and ribbons, for the intergalactic birthday party.The waiters danced, offered their arms to the tourists, and served to the sound of Rock music. Small Martians approached the ducklings and, showering them with compliments, hopping and dancing, played with them.The party had begun."Everything here is square — the glasses, the bottles!" the ducks whispered to each other.The sweet treats were salty, the salty ones were sweet, the cake was... well, well, what kind of world is this!The balloons with "Happy Birthday" written on them were — guess what — square.The evening was coming to an end and fireworks lit up the sky to celebrate the tourists... and they were square too."How kind and lovely these Martians are!" said Mama duck, and continued: "We made it to Mars, we've seen what there was to see, we've had our fun. Now let's think about going back to Earth."Suddenly, the ship commander's voice announced the imminent arrival of a spaceship for the return trip.The three ducks couldn't wait. They said their goodbyes and, crossing a connecting bridge, stepped directly into the spaceship. And down, toward their planet.Watching the tourists depart through the ship's windows, the Martians in their waiter uniforms launched dozens of colorful balloons into space.In the universe, under a starry sky, satellites wandered around the spaceship. Venus shone in the distance, and the Moon, ever closer, smiled with her full face.Arriving back on Earth, all three stepped down onto the farmyard, happy.Square balloons with "Happy Birthday" written on them floated in the air.What a surprise! This is certainly the work of the Martians.And by telling everyone about their galactic adventure, the two ducklings made lots of friends. Everyone wanted to hear about their trip to Mars.Our planet may be round, may be big, may be small, may be beautiful, and it will always be our home.— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

In this episode of On The Way, we welcome Aurélie Jean, a scientist specializing in algorithmic modeling. She runs a start-up, Infra, which develops AI models applied to women's preventive medicine. The objective of this start-up: the early detection of breast cancer and heart attack.By using AI models, the company will be able to assess the woman's cardiovascular risks based on the analysis of her mammogram.  Through her testimony, Aurélie shares with us her vision of medicine, technology and the future. Discover an episode that questions the use of new technologies and the relationship we have with the inclusion of artificial intelligence in medicine. Aurélie Jean offers us an inspiring insight into the impact that entrepreneurship, combined with technology, can offer. The previous episode of On The Way with Céline Caudron, Innovafeed's Chief Financial Officer, as well as all the other episodes, can be found on all your favorite listening platforms. Enjoy !Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Over the last few decades, the understanding of trauma has changed the landscape of therapy. I'm honored to talk with Bessel Van der Kolk, one of the leaders of that movement.Le livre de Bessel : https://www.lisez.com/livres/le-corps-noublie-rien/9782266300728Mon site : https://www.fabricemidal.comFacebook Fabrice Midal : https://www.facebook.com/FabriceMidalFacebook du podcast Dialogues : https://www.facebook.com/dialogues.fmInstagram Fabrice Midal : https://www.instagram.com/fabricemidalInstagram du podcast Dialogues : https://www.instagram.com/fabricemidal_dialogues/Tiktok : https://www.tiktok.com/@fabricemidalMes trois chaînes YouTube :Mes vidéos : https://www.youtube.com/@fabricemidal1Les Dialogues : https://www.youtube.com/@dialoguesfmLes méditations guidées : https://www.youtube.com/@mediteravecfabricemidalMes podcasts :Le podcast de Fabrice Midal (toutes mes vidéos en version audio) :

Giannina the Cat Giannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades. Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection. Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together. But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait. Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian. After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses." No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!" As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her. The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others." Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor. On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her. At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever. Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park. They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms. After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats. That's when they arrived. "Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!" At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust. "Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?" The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!" The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song. In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm. "Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her. She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose? She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment. Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group. It was the right moment. Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages. In a gentle voice, she began to read. "Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again." Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light. "You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful." A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you." Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine." Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!" And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses. From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her. But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes. It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand. _— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli_ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Giannina the CatGiannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades.Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection.Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together.But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait.Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian.After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses."No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!"As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her.The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others."Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor.On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her.At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever.Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park.They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms.After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats.That's when they arrived."Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!"At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust."Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?"The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!"The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song.In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm."Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her.She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose?She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment.Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group.It was the right moment.Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages.In a gentle voice, she began to read."Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again."Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light."You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful."A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you."Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine."Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!"And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses.From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her.But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes.It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand.— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

LEOPOLDO'S SECRET LIBRARYSome people are strange — they like to spend their evenings reading books.Others are even stranger — they believe in the magic found between pages, in fantastical adventures, in stories of impossible love, in ghosts that walk among the living, and they think that everything that doesn't exist — maybe does after all.In short, this story is for those who are a little strange, like you and me — you know, for those who.So… listen.If you take the road up the hill from the center of town, you'll find an old and noble villa, one that has been there for a very long time. It must be about 350 years now that it has stood there in silence, watching and breathing softly beneath the Tuscan sky.Enormous rooms filled with history, endless corridors, and windows as large as dreams — but now, instead of porcelain plates and figurines, it gives us stories on paper for those who wish to read them.Yes, now it's the town library — a bit out of the way, but so beautiful. Well, you can't have everything.Now, on a summer night, wrapped in a blanket of stars and the soft glow of delicate lanterns, the villa had filled with voices, music, smiles, and so many stories told and heard, spoken aloud or whispered, intertwining in the embrace of the celebration.A special evening already, no doubt, but pay attention, because something even more unusual was about to happen.Yes, because Elisa was there too. Eyes as wide as the sky, hair as dark as the night, and a book in her hand — as always.Despite everything happening around her, Elisa preferred to read.She was there, in the main corridor: between the garden and the inner courtyard, halfway between the certain and the perhaps, sitting in an armchair a little too big for her, lost in a mysterious and captivating story — in a world all her own.She turns a page, then another, adjusts her yellow glasses, and turns another page…When slowly, the echo of piano music reached her ears.She didn't pay much attention. Thinking it came from the courtyard, she turned another page — and then another.But before long she realized that the notes she heard were not coming from the villa's courtyard but from one of its corridors — carried by a gentle breeze, from faraway places outside of time.Without thinking too much, Elisa rose silently, tucked her book under her arm, and followed the music.She crossed ancient corridors and rooms with shelves full of volumes of every size and color imaginable — rainbows of thoughts and words lined up one by one that seemed to never end.As the music grew stronger, the light faded, the rooms she passed through began to appear forgotten, the stone stairs she climbed and descended worn by time, the side corridors were now dark passages lit only by torches on the walls, appearing and disappearing in the darkness like breaths.A staircase, a wooden door left ajar, another passage, another staircase, and still more rooms and shelves and books without end.Then, suddenly, a mist covered the floor like a gentle tide, and there, before her, a heavy curtain — half open.A little light showed through, and a few small wooden steps.She climbed them, those little stairs, and the music wrapped around her like an embrace.On the stage, candles floated in the air like fireflies on a timeless night. And there, at the center, seated before a tiny piano, was a mouse.But not just any mouse.Leopoldo wore a dark green tweed jacket, brown trousers pressed with care, and on his little snout, golden spectacles that gleamed with ancient and gentle wisdom.His fingers danced on the keys as if they were telling a secret."Welcome, Elisa," he said, without stopping his playing. "I've been waiting for you."Elisa blinked, enchanted. "How do you know my name?""Ah," Leopoldo smiled, letting the last note fade softly into the air, "those who love stories always recognize those who seek them."He stood, adjusted his jacket with an elegant gesture, and looked at her with eyes full of stars."Do you know where you are?""In the town library," Elisa answered, but her voice trembled a little, as if she knew the answer was something else."That one everyone knows," said Leopoldo, stepping down slowly from the stage. "Every town has one that everyone knows. But every town also has another — one that almost no one finds."He paused, his eyes gleaming."You have found the second."Leopoldo led her toward a large wooden door that Elisa could have sworn wasn't there a moment before. It opened slowly, without a sound, like a sigh held too long.And what she saw took her breath away.Endless shelves climbed upward, descended downward, stretched in every direction like spirals of galaxies made of paper and dreams. Candles floated everywhere, illuminating books that seemed to breathe, to pulse softly, like sleeping hearts."What is this place?" Elisa whispered."This," said Leopoldo, walking among the shelves, "is the library of books never written."Elisa followed, confused. "Books never written? But how can they exist?"Leopoldo stopped, turned, and looked at her with infinite gentleness."Every story ever dreamed exists, Elisa. Every adventure imagined before sleep. Every tale thought but never put to paper. They all live here, at the border between the world and the dream, waiting."They stopped before a shelf.Leopoldo pointed to a small book, bound in blue like a summer sky."Touch it," he said softly.Elisa reached out, hesitant, and brushed the cover.A gentle warmth passed through her fingers. And for an instant — just an instant — she heard a child's laughter, saw a dragon made of clouds, and a castle built of pillows and blankets."This," said Leopoldo, "was the dream of a six-year-old boy. A story he told his teddy bear every night. He never wrote it down. But it exists. You see? It exists."Elisa smiled, her heart light.They walked on, through corridors of silent stories, until Leopoldo stopped before another book.This one was different. Larger, bound in dark leather, with golden letters that seemed to tremble."And this one?" asked Elisa, quietly."This one," said Leopoldo, and his voice grew soft as a caress, "belonged to a grandmother."Elisa touched it.And she felt something different.Not laughter, this time. But a warm, distant voice, telling of a brave little girl who crossed an enchanted forest to bring light to a forgotten village."It was the story she wanted to leave her grandchildren," Leopoldo explained. "But time… time sometimes runs faster than dreams. She didn't have time to write it."Elisa felt her eyes sting."But it's here," she whispered."It's here," Leopoldo confirmed. "Forever."They continued walking, in silence, until they reached a shelf unlike the others.It was nearly empty. Only a few books, spaced apart, and so many open spaces, waiting.At the center, a book without a title.The cover was white, clean, like freshly fallen snow, like a page waiting for its first mark."May I?" asked Elisa.Leopoldo nodded.She touched it.Nothing. No warmth. No voice. Only silence. But a full silence, like a breath held."This book is empty," said Elisa, surprised."Not yet written," Leopoldo corrected. "Not even dreamed. Not yet. It waits for someone to find the courage to imagine it."He turned toward her, and his eyes shone like the candles floating around them."Perhaps it waits for you. Perhaps it waits for someone else. But it waits."Elisa stood still, looking at that white book.And she understood.She understood that every story she had ever imagined, every adventure invented before sleep, every dream she thought lost upon waking, existed somewhere.And she understood something else.That you don't have to be afraid to write.Because stories already exist — in the heart, in the mind, in dreams. Putting them on paper is not creating them from nothing. It is only opening a door and letting them out."I have to go, don't I?" said Elisa, softly.Leopoldo smiled. "Your world awaits you. But now you know this place exists. And you know that every story you dream will always have a place here, whether you write it or not."He paused."But if you do write it," he added with a sly smile, "it can live out there too. And that, my dear, is another kind of magic."Elisa found herself back in the villa's corridor, sitting in the armchair a little too big for her, the book still under her arm.The celebration went on, voices and music and laughter, as if no time had passed at all.But something had changed.She had changed.She opened the book she had been reading, looked at the pages, and smiled.Then she closed it.Because now she knew that the most beautiful stories are not only the ones we read.They are the ones we carry inside, the ones we dream with our eyes open, and the ones that one day, with a little courage, we dare to tell.— This story was written by Marco Ciappelli for "Storie Sotto Le Stelle"  Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

LEOPOLDO'S SECRET LIBRARYSome people are strange — they like to spend their evenings reading books.Others are even stranger — they believe in the magic found between pages, in fantastical adventures, in stories of impossible love, in ghosts that walk among the living, and they think that everything that doesn't exist — maybe does after all.In short, this story is for those who are a little strange, like you and me — you know, for those who.So… listen.If you take the road up the hill from the center of town, you'll find an old and noble villa, one that has been there for a very long time. It must be about 350 years now that it has stood there in silence, watching and breathing softly beneath the Tuscan sky.Enormous rooms filled with history, endless corridors, and windows as large as dreams — but now, instead of porcelain plates and figurines, it gives us stories on paper for those who wish to read them.Yes, now it's the town library — a bit out of the way, but so beautiful. Well, you can't have everything.Now, on a summer night, wrapped in a blanket of stars and the soft glow of delicate lanterns, the villa had filled with voices, music, smiles, and so many stories told and heard, spoken aloud or whispered, intertwining in the embrace of the celebration.A special evening already, no doubt, but pay attention, because something even more unusual was about to happen.Yes, because Elisa was there too. Eyes as wide as the sky, hair as dark as the night, and a book in her hand — as always.Despite everything happening around her, Elisa preferred to read.She was there, in the main corridor: between the garden and the inner courtyard, halfway between the certain and the perhaps, sitting in an armchair a little too big for her, lost in a mysterious and captivating story — in a world all her own.She turns a page, then another, adjusts her yellow glasses, and turns another page…When slowly, the echo of piano music reached her ears.She didn't pay much attention. Thinking it came from the courtyard, she turned another page — and then another.But before long she realized that the notes she heard were not coming from the villa's courtyard but from one of its corridors — carried by a gentle breeze, from faraway places outside of time.Without thinking too much, Elisa rose silently, tucked her book under her arm, and followed the music.She crossed ancient corridors and rooms with shelves full of volumes of every size and color imaginable — rainbows of thoughts and words lined up one by one that seemed to never end.As the music grew stronger, the light faded, the rooms she passed through began to appear forgotten, the stone stairs she climbed and descended worn by time, the side corridors were now dark passages lit only by torches on the walls, appearing and disappearing in the darkness like breaths.A staircase, a wooden door left ajar, another passage, another staircase, and still more rooms and shelves and books without end.Then, suddenly, a mist covered the floor like a gentle tide, and there, before her, a heavy curtain — half open.A little light showed through, and a few small wooden steps.She climbed them, those little stairs, and the music wrapped around her like an embrace.On the stage, candles floated in the air like fireflies on a timeless night. And there, at the center, seated before a tiny piano, was a mouse.But not just any mouse.Leopoldo wore a dark green tweed jacket, brown trousers pressed with care, and on his little snout, golden spectacles that gleamed with ancient and gentle wisdom.His fingers danced on the keys as if they were telling a secret."Welcome, Elisa," he said, without stopping his playing. "I've been waiting for you."Elisa blinked, enchanted. "How do you know my name?""Ah," Leopoldo smiled, letting the last note fade softly into the air, "those who love stories always recognize those who seek them."He stood, adjusted his jacket with an elegant gesture, and looked at her with eyes full of stars."Do you know where you are?""In the town library," Elisa answered, but her voice trembled a little, as if she knew the answer was something else."That one everyone knows," said Leopoldo, stepping down slowly from the stage. "Every town has one that everyone knows. But every town also has another — one that almost no one finds."He paused, his eyes gleaming."You have found the second."Leopoldo led her toward a large wooden door that Elisa could have sworn wasn't there a moment before. It opened slowly, without a sound, like a sigh held too long.And what she saw took her breath away.Endless shelves climbed upward, descended downward, stretched in every direction like spirals of galaxies made of paper and dreams. Candles floated everywhere, illuminating books that seemed to breathe, to pulse softly, like sleeping hearts."What is this place?" Elisa whispered."This," said Leopoldo, walking among the shelves, "is the library of books never written."Elisa followed, confused. "Books never written? But how can they exist?"Leopoldo stopped, turned, and looked at her with infinite gentleness."Every story ever dreamed exists, Elisa. Every adventure imagined before sleep. Every tale thought but never put to paper. They all live here, at the border between the world and the dream, waiting."They stopped before a shelf.Leopoldo pointed to a small book, bound in blue like a summer sky."Touch it," he said softly.Elisa reached out, hesitant, and brushed the cover.A gentle warmth passed through her fingers. And for an instant — just an instant — she heard a child's laughter, saw a dragon made of clouds, and a castle built of pillows and blankets."This," said Leopoldo, "was the dream of a six-year-old boy. A story he told his teddy bear every night. He never wrote it down. But it exists. You see? It exists."Elisa smiled, her heart light.They walked on, through corridors of silent stories, until Leopoldo stopped before another book.This one was different. Larger, bound in dark leather, with golden letters that seemed to tremble."And this one?" asked Elisa, quietly."This one," said Leopoldo, and his voice grew soft as a caress, "belonged to a grandmother."Elisa touched it.And she felt something different.Not laughter, this time. But a warm, distant voice, telling of a brave little girl who crossed an enchanted forest to bring light to a forgotten village."It was the story she wanted to leave her grandchildren," Leopoldo explained. "But time… time sometimes runs faster than dreams. She didn't have time to write it."Elisa felt her eyes sting."But it's here," she whispered."It's here," Leopoldo confirmed. "Forever."They continued walking, in silence, until they reached a shelf unlike the others.It was nearly empty. Only a few books, spaced apart, and so many open spaces, waiting.At the center, a book without a title.The cover was white, clean, like freshly fallen snow, like a page waiting for its first mark."May I?" asked Elisa.Leopoldo nodded.She touched it.Nothing. No warmth. No voice. Only silence. But a full silence, like a breath held."This book is empty," said Elisa, surprised."Not yet written," Leopoldo corrected. "Not even dreamed. Not yet. It waits for someone to find the courage to imagine it."He turned toward her, and his eyes shone like the candles floating around them."Perhaps it waits for you. Perhaps it waits for someone else. But it waits."Elisa stood still, looking at that white book.And she understood.She understood that every story she had ever imagined, every adventure invented before sleep, every dream she thought lost upon waking, existed somewhere.And she understood something else.That you don't have to be afraid to write.Because stories already exist — in the heart, in the mind, in dreams. Putting them on paper is not creating them from nothing. It is only opening a door and letting them out."I have to go, don't I?" said Elisa, softly.Leopoldo smiled. "Your world awaits you. But now you know this place exists. And you know that every story you dream will always have a place here, whether you write it or not."He paused."But if you do write it," he added with a sly smile, "it can live out there too. And that, my dear, is another kind of magic."Elisa found herself back in the villa's corridor, sitting in the armchair a little too big for her, the book still under her arm.The celebration went on, voices and music and laughter, as if no time had passed at all.But something had changed.She had changed.She opened the book she had been reading, looked at the pages, and smiled.Then she closed it.Because now she knew that the most beautiful stories are not only the ones we read.They are the ones we carry inside, the ones we dream with our eyes open, and the ones that one day, with a little courage, we dare to tell.— This story was written by Marco Ciappelli for "Storie Sotto Le Stelle"  Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship. CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://www.plough.com/en/subscriptions/daily-prayer Bible verseIsaiah 23:6           Thought for the dayRay Borrett Bible PassageIsaiah 23Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible. Prayer HandbookClick here to download it Supporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribe To contact Ray:Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://5dailydevotional.com/short-prayer-for-today-7th-january-2025/ Bible verseIsaiah 22:13           Thought for the dayRay Borrett Bible PassageIsaiah 22Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible. Prayer HandbookClick here to download it Supporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribe To contact Ray:Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrt

 Today is the 7th of January 2026. Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://5dailydevotional.com/short-prayer-for-today-7th-january-2025/ Bible verseIsaiah 21:15           Thought for the dayRay Borrett Bible PassageIsaiah 21Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible. Prayer HandbookClick here to download it Supporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribe To contact Ray:Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://www.plough.com/en/subscriptions/daily-prayer Bible verseIsaiah 19:21           Thought for the dayRay Borrett Bible PassageIsaiah 19Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible. Prayer HandbookClick here to download it Supporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribe To contact Ray:Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://www.plough.com/en/subscriptions/daily-prayer Bible verseIsaiah 20:3           Thought for the dayRay Borrett Bible PassageIsaiah 20Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible. Prayer HandbookClick here to download it Supporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribe To contact Ray:Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Send us a text      Hi friends, 24 years ago I had an experience that changed me for the better. This is the "English Version" of my testimony. The Spanish one you could find it on my YouTube Channel "PABLO AZURDIA" or on any audio podcast platform. May the Spirit of the Lord give you testimony what I am about to share. Support the show

Welcome to Walking the Way and the season of Advent. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://onlineministries.creighton.edu/prayer-spirituality-resources/praying-advent Bible verseIsaiah 9:6Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 9Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way and the season of Advent. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it p means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://onlineministries.creighton.edu/prayer-spirituality-resources/praying-advent Bible verseIsaiah 8:14Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 8Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Where has Santa Claus gone?Once upon a time there was Santa Claus's Village — but Santa Claus wasn't there. He had been missing for days and days… actually for months. Who would prepare and deliver gifts to the children as they did every year?That part of the North Pole which was usually very busy had become strangely silent — not an Elf could be seen around, no sounds of bells, the sleighs were covered in snow and all the reindeer dozed about confused.If you looked into his house you couldn't see a trace of life. The fireplace cold, the rocking chair covered in cobwebs, an empty cup on the wooden table and a candle stub burnt out long ago.Many were the rumours that had spread about Santa Claus's absence. Some said he was on another planet in a far, far away galaxy, some on the Moon, some on the vast oceans — and someone even said he had opened a bakery in Buenos Aires.The mystery was thick. Nobody could make sense of it and everything was silent and still.Meanwhile, many miles away, in the Southern Seas, a group of seagulls who spent their days fluttering above the bay spotted a small sailing boat in the distance. There was only one sailor on board who was hoisting the main sail up the creaking mast.The eldest seagull couldn't believe his eyes. He did a couple of acrobatics in the air, pulled out his spyglass, looked more carefully and said: "But I know him! That sailor comes from distant lands!"Turning to the other seagulls he told them: "One day, during one of my long journeys, I lost my way and found myself on the frozen rooftops of a village at the North Pole. I landed right on the house of that long-bearded man you see on the boat. He heard me calling for help, came to fetch me, fed me and told me about his work. I think this meeting has something magical about it. Our next adventure is about to begin."Gliding down, they headed towards the boat and all landed on the bow. The seagull and the sailor greeted each other like old friends.Shortly after, a group of dolphins arrived near the sailing boat, curious. They swam in circles around the boat, jumping out of the water.The youngest dolphin noticed something strange. "Look! Wood shavings are coming out of the hold and floating! And you can see little lights below deck."The long-bearded sailor smiled. "Come," he said in a warm voice, "I'll show you what I've done all these months."He opened the hatch to the hold and inside, by the light of two swaying lanterns, you could see a floating workshop full of wonders. With a sharp plane he had worked pieces of wood recovered from the sea, transforming them into toys — and he had done the same with shells, coconuts, cork stoppers, glass bottles, starfish and golden threads that had arrived from who knows where."I travelled to learn new ways of bringing joy," the sailor explained. "But there's so much work to do and Christmas is coming. Would you help me finish?"And so they all set to work together. The dolphins brought special shells from the bottom of the sea. The seagulls gathered coloured feathers. The objects transformed into gifts were placed in large canvas sacks.The days passed quickly.On the first of December the captain, wearing his red warm hat with his pipe in his mouth, looked at the starry sky and said: "It's time to leave."The dolphins lifted the sailing boat until it rose above the waves. The sails filled with wind and it took flight, whilst the flock of seagulls guided it through the clouds following dreams. Together they continued the journey heading north, flying through the endless blue.Night fell quickly and in the sky full of stars one shone brighter than all the others. It was the North Star which with its light accompanied the sailing boat's descent to earth.By magic, as it approached the village, the sailing boat transformed into a sleigh loaded with gifts. The presents built in the hold arrived in the workshop to be delivered together with all the other parcels.When it landed on the roof of his house, a tinkling of bells was heard in the distance. The Elves looked out of their doors and shouted: "It's him! It's him! It's Santa Claus! He's back!"The red-nosed reindeer woke up suddenly and began polishing the sleighs, decorating them with bows and coloured pine cones.Life in the village awakened all at once. The tree branches shook as if they were being tickled. A group of penguins, who had arrived at the North Pole to lend a hand, sliding on the ice sheets at great speed, ended up inside snowdrifts and came out like bouncing balls.“You are so funny! We'll hang you on the Christmas tree as decorations!" the village animals shouted.But the penguins, freeing themselves from the snow, ran towards Santa Claus's house to help with the preparations.In the village absolutely everyone got moving. The reindeer rushed to the Post Office and filled the sacks with letters, then carried them to the workshop. The Elves with the help of the penguins were ready for work.That morning, when the bells rang out in celebration, foxes, squirrels, hares and bears came running from every corner of the forest to celebrate Santa Claus's return. There was so much to do for the joy of all the children in the world.The air smelt of fir trees and homemade biscuits. The Christmas trees sparkled with icicles like stars. The animals chased each other happily with their noses turned upwards.The preparations began in earnest. Throughout the month of December they worked together — saws that sang, hammers that played, coloured paper that flew. Santa Claus told stories of his journey whilst he hammered and sanded.And when the 24th of December arrived, everything was ready. The presents were loaded onto the sleigh and Santa Claus set off on his most important journey.The seagulls flew away towards new horizons, leaving their footprints on the snowy rooftops.Since that Christmas it is said that Santa Claus never left the North Pole again."What if it was only a tale? Is it true, or not? The final decision is yours!" — Written by Lucia & Marco CiappelliFor the Italian version and many more stories to read and listen to: https://www.storiesottolestelle.com Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Welcome to Walking the Way and the season of Advent. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship. CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://onlineministries.creighton.edu/prayer-spirituality-resources/praying-advent Bible verseIsaiah 7:8Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 7Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Where has Santa Claus gone?Once upon a time there was Santa Claus's Village — but Santa Claus wasn't there. He had been missing for days and days… actually for months. Who would prepare and deliver gifts to the children as they did every year?That part of the North Pole which was usually very busy had become strangely silent — not an Elf could be seen around, no sounds of bells, the sleighs were covered in snow and all the reindeer dozed about confused.If you looked into his house you couldn't see a trace of life. The fireplace cold, the rocking chair covered in cobwebs, an empty cup on the wooden table and a candle stub burnt out long ago.Many were the rumours that had spread about Santa Claus's absence. Some said he was on another planet in a far, far away galaxy, some on the Moon, some on the vast oceans — and someone even said he had opened a bakery in Buenos Aires.The mystery was thick. Nobody could make sense of it and everything was silent and still.Meanwhile, many miles away, in the Southern Seas, a group of seagulls who spent their days fluttering above the bay spotted a small sailing boat in the distance. There was only one sailor on board who was hoisting the main sail up the creaking mast.The eldest seagull couldn't believe his eyes. He did a couple of acrobatics in the air, pulled out his spyglass, looked more carefully and said: "But I know him! That sailor comes from distant lands!"Turning to the other seagulls he told them: "One day, during one of my long journeys, I lost my way and found myself on the frozen rooftops of a village at the North Pole. I landed right on the house of that long-bearded man you see on the boat. He heard me calling for help, came to fetch me, fed me and told me about his work. I think this meeting has something magical about it. Our next adventure is about to begin."Gliding down, they headed towards the boat and all landed on the bow. The seagull and the sailor greeted each other like old friends.Shortly after, a group of dolphins arrived near the sailing boat, curious. They swam in circles around the boat, jumping out of the water.The youngest dolphin noticed something strange. "Look! Wood shavings are coming out of the hold and floating! And you can see little lights below deck."The long-bearded sailor smiled. "Come," he said in a warm voice, "I'll show you what I've done all these months."He opened the hatch to the hold and inside, by the light of two swaying lanterns, you could see a floating workshop full of wonders. With a sharp plane he had worked pieces of wood recovered from the sea, transforming them into toys — and he had done the same with shells, coconuts, cork stoppers, glass bottles, starfish and golden threads that had arrived from who knows where."I travelled to learn new ways of bringing joy," the sailor explained. "But there's so much work to do and Christmas is coming. Would you help me finish?"And so they all set to work together. The dolphins brought special shells from the bottom of the sea. The seagulls gathered coloured feathers. The objects transformed into gifts were placed in large canvas sacks.The days passed quickly.On the first of December the captain, wearing his red warm hat with his pipe in his mouth, looked at the starry sky and said: "It's time to leave."The dolphins lifted the sailing boat until it rose above the waves. The sails filled with wind and it took flight, whilst the flock of seagulls guided it through the clouds following dreams. Together they continued the journey heading north, flying through the endless blue.Night fell quickly and in the sky full of stars one shone brighter than all the others. It was the North Star which with its light accompanied the sailing boat's descent to earth.By magic, as it approached the village, the sailing boat transformed into a sleigh loaded with gifts. The presents built in the hold arrived in the workshop to be delivered together with all the other parcels.When it landed on the roof of his house, a tinkling of bells was heard in the distance. The Elves looked out of their doors and shouted: "It's him! It's him! It's Santa Claus! He's back!"The red-nosed reindeer woke up suddenly and began polishing the sleighs, decorating them with bows and coloured pine cones.Life in the village awakened all at once. The tree branches shook as if they were being tickled. A group of penguins, who had arrived at the North Pole to lend a hand, sliding on the ice sheets at great speed, ended up inside snowdrifts and came out like bouncing balls.“You are so funny! We'll hang you on the Christmas tree as decorations!" the village animals shouted.But the penguins, freeing themselves from the snow, ran towards Santa Claus's house to help with the preparations.In the village absolutely everyone got moving. The reindeer rushed to the Post Office and filled the sacks with letters, then carried them to the workshop. The Elves with the help of the penguins were ready for work.That morning, when the bells rang out in celebration, foxes, squirrels, hares and bears came running from every corner of the forest to celebrate Santa Claus's return. There was so much to do for the joy of all the children in the world.The air smelt of fir trees and homemade biscuits. The Christmas trees sparkled with icicles like stars. The animals chased each other happily with their noses turned upwards.The preparations began in earnest. Throughout the month of December they worked together — saws that sang, hammers that played, coloured paper that flew. Santa Claus told stories of his journey whilst he hammered and sanded.And when the 24th of December arrived, everything was ready. The presents were loaded onto the sleigh and Santa Claus set off on his most important journey.The seagulls flew away towards new horizons, leaving their footprints on the snowy rooftops.Since that Christmas it is said that Santa Claus never left the North Pole again."What if it was only a tale? Is it true, or not? The final decision is yours!" — Written by Lucia & Marco CiappelliFor the Italian version and many more stories to read and listen to: https://www.storiesottolestelle.com Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

La Fundación Rafael del Pino organizó el día 16 de diciembre el diálogo «El nuevo orden iliberal: cómo se está reconfigurando el mundo» en el que participaron Anne Applebaum y Federico Steinberg.

Welcome to Walking the Way and the season of Advent. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://onlineministries.creighton.edu/prayer-spirituality-resources/praying-advent Bible verseIsaiah 6:8Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 6Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way and the season of Advent. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://onlineministries.creighton.edu/prayer-spirituality-resources/praying-advent Bible verseIsaiah 5:12Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageIsaiah 5Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://www.prayerscapes.com/prayers/petitions/prayer_for_peace_of_mind.html Bible verseEcclesiastes 7:13Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageEcclesiastes 7Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship. CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://www.prayerscapes.com/prayers/petitions/prayer_for_peace_of_mind.html Bible verseEcclesiastes 6:12Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageEcclesiastes 6Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

THE SEASONS IN A BREATHAutumn appeared at the window and looked around— it was November."The leaves are yellow and red.The swallows fly away in flocks over the rooftops.The crisp air smells of roasted chestnuts and burning wood.I like it this way,"Autumn exclaimed.Winter opened the door and looked around— it was January."The snow and the freezing wind.In the woods, mistletoe on branches beneath a blanket of ice.The marmot sleeps in her covered den, dreaming of the stars.How lovely it is to be warm and cozy!"Winter exclaimed.Spring stepped out onto the terrace and looked around— it was April."The flowers bloom and the birds chirp, returning to their nests.With the mild temperature, joyful life vibrates in the air.How wonderful!"Spring exclaimed.Summer went into the garden and looked around— it was July.A cat rests in the shade of a pine tree.The air smells of cut grass and ripe fruit.The butterflies dance carefree to the song of the cicadas.The sun makes me smile!"Summer exclaimed.The months pass and the year spins at great speed,but they will always bring something beautiful. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship. CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://www.prayerscapes.com/prayers/petitions/prayer_for_peace_of_mind.html Bible verseEcclesiastes 5:9Thought for the dayRay BorrettChurch videoBible PassageEcclesiastes 5Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship. CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://strengthinprayer.com/prayers-for-armistice-day/ Bible verseEcclesiastes 4:9Thought for the dayRay BorrettBible PassageEcclesiastes 4Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Welcome to Walking the Way. My name is Ray, and I really want to say thank you to everyone for listening in as we continue to explore what it means to have a regular rhythm of worship.  CreditsOpening Prayerhttps://www.faithandworship.com/prayers_strugggling_life_faith.htm#gsc.tab=0 Bible verseEcclesiastes 3:1Thought for the dayRay BorrettJill's blogpost can be found here:https://jillprintzenhoff.com/2017/06/13/not-my-day/Bible PassageEcclesiastes 3Good News Translation® (Today's English Version, Second Edition) © 1992 American Bible Society. All rights reserved. For more information about GNT, visit www.bibles.com and www.gnt.bible.Prayer HandbookClick here to download itSupporting Walking the WayIf you want to support Walking the Way, please go to: https://ko-fi.com/S6S4WXLBBor you can subscribe to the channel: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkingtheway/subscribeTo contact Ray: Please leave a comment or a review. I want to find out what people think and how we make it better.www.rayborrett.co.ukwalkingthewaypodcast@outlook.comwww.instagram.com/walkingtheway1@raybrrtt

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

Daily audio recordings of CMFI Praise, Prayer and Fasting Crusade. From 13th October to 21st Nov 2025

Halloween over Florence: THE MARKET OF GHOSTSSeverino lived in the bell tower on the hill — the one next to the ancient Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.Every evening, at sunset, he would lock the gate at the base of the entrance stairway and before climbing back up, he would pause to watch Florence color itself amber.And so he did today as well. The tourists had left. Time stopped and silence became sacred again.Through the rusted bars the city stood there motionless — perhaps since forever; with its red roofs, marble facades and the Arno flowing between its stones like a glittering silver ribbon.Domes and towers trembling with light, almost suspended in the air, as if everything and everyone were holding their breath waiting for twilight — and for the night that would cover it with shadows, stars and dreams.One more glance, then he turned on his transistor radio that he had found a few years ago and the notes of Duke Ellington's 'Don't Get Around Much Anymore' filled the autumn evening.Silence may be sacred for the monks, but for Severino music was more so. Seven, his raven, didn't need to be called and at the first notes launched himself from the cypresses of the cemetery above, circled in front of the imposing facade of the Basilica and suddenly glided down along the stairway, to land gently on his left shoulder."Hey Seven, had a good day?""Yes. Could have been worse — Let's settle for that."At which, Severino smiled, turned up the radio's volume and began climbing resolutely toward le Porte del Cielo, while Jazz music echoed among the ancient stones.Nine years ago, on this same day in the month of October, the Olivetan monks residing in the Abbey found a child on the steps of the Basilica.He was there, wrapped in fog, silent as the night, eyes curious as the wind, without name and without past. They called him Severino — I don't know why — and he grew up among prayers and silences. He played in ancient rooms and discovered his world, surrounded by books, tombs, art and mysteries never revealed. At night a raven and a black cat accompanied him, illuminated by the moon, in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, wandering among imposing crypts and motionless statues that whispered memories and mysteries.But on Halloween nights the whispers transform into screams and endless laments. Secrets manifest themselves, legends become reality, and dreams disguised as nightmares knock on doors lit by candles. And that full moon night was precisely this night: October 31st — and remember, whether you believe in spirits or not, nothing changes: the ghosts will come.And Severino was up there, right there waiting for them to arrive. Leaning out the highest window of the bell tower, calm, looking at Florence from above. While Thelonious Monk's 'Round Midnight' played on his radio, he watched — tapping time with one foot and waited.At the second of the twelve strokes of the midnight bells, something began to happen. On the Arno formed a dense fog that pulsed with spectral green. It began to rise and slide slow but inexorable over the bridges like fingers of cold hands of impatient ghosts. It slid over the Ponte Vecchio and rolled through the streets of Oltrarno until reaching San Niccolò, where it climbed up the hill swallowing everything it found in its path.When it reached the gate of San Miniato, it slipped through the bars and climbed up the stairs until it covered, like a high luminous tide, the entire square in front of the church. It climbed up the marble facade and wrapped also the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, covering the entire hill in a cloak of mystery. Then slowly, as if by enchantment, the fog began to dissolve rising toward the sky and when the last cloud melted into the night air, the square was no longer empty.Small jack-o'-lanterns with flickering lights floated in the air smiling with teeth of fire. Black candles sprouted from nowhere, illuminating spectral stalls full of everything and nothing. Bats that seemed made of paper but were alive fluttered among the lights with wings of black velvet, while autumn leaves danced without wind, sparkling with gold and copper. Pumpkins of every shape filled the stands, some carved with funny faces, others covered with silver spiderwebs that shone like threads of moon. Witch hats swirled in the air like flying umbrellas rotating slow on themselves. Roasted chestnuts perfumed the air with cinnamon and mystery, while small dancing skeletons tinkled like ice bells.And finally in the Cimitero delle Porte Sante, the Portal opened. Like every Halloween, for centuries, spirits from all over the world congregated in Florence for their annual meeting. A spectral river of ghosts poured into the square, each heading toward their own stall, and each with their impossible merchandise to sell or trade. The spirits had arrived and Severino observed them from above. A carnival of other worlds, made of sounds, colors and unimaginable stories.The deserted square had transformed into the Market of Ghosts. Stalls kept materializing from nowhere, carved and glowing pumpkins told each other stories of Halloweens past, present and future laughing malicious among the perfumes of lost memories, past centuries, tomorrow's candles and fallen stardust. The sky above the Tuscan hills and above Florence was full of ghosts arriving from everywhere to search for the unfindable. But no human eye could see this spectacle. No one except Severino, who descended from the tower enchanted by that spectacle and immersed himself in the crowd pulsating with otherworldly life. Seven circled above him observing with attentive eyes and cawing a bit nervous. Some ghosts looked at him with curiosity and recognized him. Someone greeted him and many others whispered his name in forgotten languages."There he is," murmured a witch from Prague."The child of time," sighed a Norman knight."He's returned, I told you so." laughed a Caribbean pirate.But Severino paid them no attention because there were ghosts selling: dreams of sleeping dragons, laughter of northern gnomes, tears of mermaids in love, the last breath of dinosaurs, shadows of unicorns. And even fears from past Halloweens — two for the price of one, but only for tonight. The ghost of a pirate who died during a boarding gone not so well shouted: "Storm bottles! Lightning in jars!" A witch from Salem whispered: "Love potions that last three lifetimes…" A medieval knight showed swords that cut fear, A Chinese spirit waved kites that fly into the past.The spectral crowd grew and thickened, laughed and bargained, while Severino walked amazed and fascinated among the impossible stalls of the Halloween Market. Seven cawed restless from above and Eleven, the black cat with orange eyes, jumped from one tent to another not losing sight of a single movement of Severino and the hundreds of souls circling around him.A ghost monk from an era that never existed saw him and smiled at him from behind a stall full of ancient radios adorned with mysterious symbols. Severino approached, fascinated."How wonderful! Do they all work?""Oh yes, certainly" replied the monk. "These transmit on the waves of past, present, and future time. But you don't need to buy one."The other ghosts stopped. They ceased selling, buying and bartering. They looked at Severino with respect and listened to what the collector of frequencies told him."The transistor radio you already have is more special than you think. But to discover its true secrets, you'll have to search in the ancient crypts where everything began."And suddenly the first lights of dawn began to illuminate the sky behind San Miniato with pink. In rush and hurry the ghosts said goodbye flying away in the wind. "Until next Halloween!" They told each other crossing in the sky. The stalls vanished. Lanterns and candles went out. The Market of Ghosts dissolved like a dream.Severino found himself alone in the empty square, Seven on his shoulder and Eleven sitting on the low wallLooking at Florence illuminating itself in the day of All Saints. He observed his old radio with new eyes and from the ancient crypts of San Miniato, something seemed to call him. He turned it on, turned up the volume and descended the stairway in time to Chet Baker's version of 'Autumn Leaves'.It was time to throw open the gate of the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte.___________________We will continue this story.... For now a Happy Halloween to all of you, may you always believe in magic!Story written by Marco Ciappelli for "Stories Under The Stars" Halloween 2025___________________Listen to Severino's Playlist for the songs that accompany this story and subscribe to discover new music with every adventure.