I have seen Fidel in his people

I have seen a student look at the photo of Fidel so deep that she seemed to lose herself in the immensity of the man and the symbol; I have seen a young woman arrive in a wheelchair and touch her heart, in faithful defiance of human disability; I have seen a grandmother kiss a bouquet of flowers and place it in front of the big picture, in tears, as one who finds no comfort in the farewell; I have seen a veteran fighter stand and salute, firm and ready, as if repeating to the eternal guerrilla fighter: "Commander in Chief, Command."

Each one has spoken to Fidel in silence and has wept on his farewell, which still seems incredible. Each of the almost thirteen thousand Guaimareños and Guaimareñas who have arrived on this first day of posthumous tribute to the General Museum of the city, National Monument and indispensable site of the history of Cuba, has promised to continue the work.

I have seen the pain in the faces, the slow pace, the anxious hands. They have come to honor him, all generations, with uncertainties and certainties, because we still do not know how we will do without him, but we are convinced that we will continue to be.

I have seen Fidel in his town. I have discovered him in every school uniform, in every white dressing gown, in every olive green garment, in every medal hung on the chest of the essential, in every home or entity that has drawn a flag, in every street that is set to serve to support its people, in every breath of the city.

I have found Fidel in the simplicity of our daily life, which has turned us into a revolution of giants, in the pride and respect of their children, with their fears and trusts, in unity and love, in the future.

I have seen Fidel in his people, that one that makes Cuba continue to throb as a nation.