I was on top of the cliff of pain begging salvation from death. A man from this land, a man from these peoples that we wanted to erase, that we civilized, Catholicized, took me in hand, me, a descendant of those who looked down without understanding.
This man, Stanley Vollant, descended for and with me into the arena of suffering to fight the monster that assailed me. The fight was arduous, several hours to cut, cauterize, remove, disinfect, in front of this open body […].
When I woke up, his camp was set up, he was used to long walks that lead to the healing of bodies and souls. Called to many healings, he leads many battles head-on. He takes care, he takes care perhaps in memory of the care his grandparents took of him. He takes care of the stranger, he takes care of the suffering, he takes care of his people, he takes care of the young.
I lower my hat very low in front of the alive spirituality of this man, in front of the humor which characterizes it so well, as well as his. The spirit lives in this man, a spirit that comes from the story told from generation to generation, when the thread is not cut by the stranger. A spirit that comes from the forest, since everything there teaches about life and its value.
This word is intended as a tribute and a thank you to a man who remains himself in a society that tends to “bulldoze” differences. […] Mr Vollant, you are a great representative of this humanity […]. Thank you and thank you to yours who can shed light on our past mistakes to allow us to hear and integrate the richness of our differences. Humanity can still hope, because there are men of your caliber, so imperfect and so human, with in them the heart of a nation which contributes to the construction of a more harmonious world which, I hope, will never again try to extinguish differences, whatever they may be. […]