Your divine omnipresence.

History is a bond of emotions and reunions that, as you said, absolved you. Just today, when the town of Biran in Holguín evokes your mettle and the imprint of your being survives in the memory of the island where you were born, you are still more alive than ever.

That August 13th, 1926, the light came for the first time to your eyes. You were not yet aware of the destiny that would welcome your existence. You did not think, still small, of the vast trajectory that your life would draw. You did not think that you would be the living representation of the rebelliousness that, in total correspondence with the mambisa blood spilled in your nation before, you would stand out with total boldness and firmness.

You did not think that in José Martí you would find not only an unprecedented visionary, an intellectual of the highest order, a stubborn defender of his homeland, an example to follow. You did not think that you would find in the Apostle the most exalted mentor of the still hardened Moncada that you led. You did not think of making of the Centennial Generation a trench of honor, of brave men, of heroes.

You did not think of a Granma of comrades, of great men, of free men, of martyrs. You did not think of Cinco Palmas, La Plata, Santo Domingo, El Jigüe, Guisa. You did not think of so many victorious battles, so many fallen with dignity. You did not think of a January 1st. Or well, yes, you did. You thought of a triumph and you achieved it. You thought of the strength of your Army, Liberator for its ancestors, Rebel for its present. You thought the Sierra, Radio Rebelde. You thought the Revolution.

You thought the long road after Batista’s departure and you built the country we are. You thought of the largest of the Antilles and today, when immortality presumes you in its chambers, you flow like a waterfall through our veins, you enkindle our souls, you survive, you shine.

The Granma embarked on its voyage that unforgettable November and destiny wanted you to accompany it on your celestial voyage once again. And although modesty blinded you before the greatness of your figure, you died as a man and you were reborn as the most illustrious personality that Cuba has given birth to, the deity that has demonstrated that this country, no matter how small it may be, will always find greatness in its freedom.

The flag salutes you. The Sierra calls you. The Moncada remembers you. Peace needs you. It has been hard this time with you and without you, without your love, without your generosity, without your smile, without your fortitude. You left, but you stayed. You stayed because we feel you. We feel you because we believe in you, because blessed and divine, your omnipresence will always be proudly contemplated by the Homeland and absolved by our History.

Written by Yadiel Barbón Salgado.