Daniel had once been a celebrated writer in Venezuela. His novels and essays were widely read and admired. But when Maduro’s regime came to power, everything changed. Daniel’s books were banned, his publisher and translator abandoned him, and he found himself unable to find work as a teacher or lecturer. The universities had become hotbeds of Marxist ideology, and Daniel’s dissenting views on politics and culture made him persona non grata.

With no other options, Daniel was forced to take up odd jobs to make ends meet. He worked as a construction worker, a delivery man, and even a police officer. His body ached, and his spirit was crushed. He had lost everything that had given his life meaning.

The only thing that kept him going was his deep faith in Jesus. He prayed every day for guidance and strength, and longed to make a pilgrimage to the shrine at Garabandal, where the Virgin Mary had appeared to a group of children in the 1960s. But he knew that was impossible. He couldn’t even afford a bus ticket to the next town.

As he grew older, Daniel’s health began to deteriorate. His wife did her best to care for him, but they both knew that his time was running out. He lay in bed, racked with pain, and thought about all the things he had lost. His career, his reputation, his country, his youth.

And then he realized something that made him feel even worse. He had been jealous of the people who had replaced him. The writers and intellectuals who had flourished under the new regime. He had envied their success, even though he knew that they had compromised their principles to achieve it.

In the end, Daniel was left with nothing but his faith. He didn’t know what the future held, or whether his country would ever be free again. All he could do was pray, and hope that his soul would find peace in the next life. As he breathed his last, he whispered the name of Jesus, and surrendered himself to the will of God.