I was born in Madrid on February 2, 1961. My mother says that I was very ugly and cried a lot. On that day the presentation of Jesus in the Temple is celebrated in Christianity: the old Simeon predicts to the Virgin that a seven-edged sword would pierce her heart. For me that day has a mysterious meaning: pain will always accompany me, but I am able to give it a deep meaning, if I know how to unite it with the redemptive sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
I entered the Catholic Church four days later, and they baptized me with the names of my father, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather: Antonio.
Until I was 6 years old, I lived in Madrid in an apartment on Calle Alcalá. The oldest memory I have is falling down the stairs and grabbing my chin…
We were 5 brothers when we moved to the island of Mallorca, as my father was promoted to Captain in the Army. Soon after, my sister Immaculate died, at the age of one year.
My life passed in a simple way… I really liked going to the village of Esporlas to spend the day with my cousins José Juan and Juana Mari. Especially when we went to Uncle Pep’s field and we could ride his donkey.
1970. I went to study primary school at Colegio Montesión