|T  he year was 1502, and I was in the midst of my studies at the University in Cracow, a peaceful Polish town. I do not remember what the day was, but I do remember that the sun was shining overhead. The sky was blue and clear of clouds, and only a slight breeze was blowing. A very nice day, indeed, for it was September.

I was a junior at the school, and a favourite of the teachers. Though I was not as intelligent as some of the other boys, I was willing to learn. And while the others were outside playing sports in the field, I would be deep in study at the library. Needless to say, this did not make me popular with the younger, more rowdy boys. But there were a few who took pity on me and befriended me. I especially remember a young man. He used to come inside after whatever game was being played and sit beside me, smiling, his bright blue eyes gleaming. And he would always persuade me to take a long walk through the yard, just to ask about what I had been learning.

And on our walks, amidst the green grass and blue sky, we would just talk. He was always interested in what made things work. I, who had trusted established science my whole life, found him to be a source of inspiration. After some time, I requested to the school that I be able to change my degree from science to divinity. It would take an extra year of studying to graduate, but the school approved. Careful spending of my inheritance allowed me just enough money that I would not be reduced to applying for a special scholarship.

My friend, who was neither a pious Christian nor a sarcastic atheist, applauded me. And I'm sure my father, who had died two years before, would also have approved. Although my intentions were good at the time, I had no clear road ahead of me. My friend would always tell me to trust God, that he would guide me through it. And I would look at him quietly, for I was sure that he did not believe in God. And, knowing what had happened to me, he knew that I only believed in devils.

I had come to Cracow a joyous young man, anxious to be a great doctor. My father had decided that it was time for me to receive an education. He wanted me to graduate from his alma mater, and I wanted so to make him happy. I told him that I would make him proud before the same professors that he had learned from. He smiled at that, knowing that, indeed, some of the old greybeards that had lectured him were still teaching at the university.