I was sitting by a riverbank, with huge stones, showing a friend of mine a picture of that place in which a girl both of us knew was with her boyfriend. We were laughing about the pose she had in the picture because it was a funny pose. My friend told me that the place was beautiful and asked me where it was. I told her that it was in the North. I thought of inviting her to go there, but I couldn't because I thought we weren't close enough friends to do this. She asked me about it, but I didn't answer her. Suddenly, I was with her and a group of friends and acquaintances from school in a retreat. The priest was the same one who had given the retreat talks last year, but he didn't speak well. He had a book in which he recounted the retreats of the past three years. In the book there were three columns, of each year and each priest, and on each column were the words that they had used. My attention was directed to a column which said, "Father A...good, Father B...good, Father C....bad." I had a discussion about these judgments with the current priest and then he started to analyze the abovementioned photographs, calling attention to the girl in it because of the pose she had taken.