there is the golden gilded linens in the souls of saints ———- whom neither dress in fine things of the world, yet sail ———- in God’s harbor, a within, their own surrendering service ———- to His . poorest of the poor on the streets, bearing not ———- to them the world’s finest seven coursed meals, but only ———- His . daily bread in provision, and within the persevering ———- virtue to serve to cleanse their own blood sweat and tears ———- their holy vomit and diarrheal soaked clothing and affairs. ———- this service, my dear ones, is the exchange in humilities, ———- between one serving and another being served, in Christ, ———- his holy….for holy is found not in the golden gilded castles ———- of the world, but within the temples of His . saints the holy . ———- for a saint serves the poorest where he finds himself poorest ———- look not around to ask who is a saint, but look within to ask ———- where is a saint, is he present, draped in virtues of holy God, ———- or is he out there around, painting an elusive pain of the thorn . ———- where is one’s saint….his own mother his own father, humbly