Original Post Date
2013-11-25 09:59 AM
Original Body
"Santa María Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros los pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén".
The Mother suddenly looks around, eyes searching, pain etched deeply into her face. A stranger looks back at her with pity and begins to cry. Presently she returns to the devotion.
"Santa María Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros los pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén".
A nurse had placed the bundle upon her stomach and then withdrew. Extending her left arm she cradled her son and drew him close, breathing in his baby scent. The tiny face squinted up at her. His father's eyes! Marveling at the miracle God has bestowed upon them, she solemnly promised to let no harm come to this precious gift.
"Santa María Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros los pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén".
For the hundredth time, perhaps the thousandth time she tells herself he didn't suffer. She tells herself her baby had felt no pain. It had been like a bolt of lighting from the sky, sudden thunder and a bolt of lightning and her baby was gone, but he was not frightened. He did not cry out for her, he did not cry out for a mother who was not there to keep her promise, he did not scream for his mother to make it stop hurting. She will continue to tell herself these things for the remainder of her life.
"Santa María Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros los pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén".
Why did she let him go outside that day? Why did she let him have a toy gun? She could have taken him instead to buy new shoes, or maybe a nice warm coat. It was her fault that her son was dead. She had promised to always protect him, and had failed. But he knew how deeply loved he was. Every day she told him, every day he kissed her cheek and said he loved her too.
"Santa María Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros los pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén".
Hands clasped high against her forehead so the assemblage cannot see the freely flowing tears, the mother resumes her penance. Almost imperceptibly, a gentle divinity begins to reveal itself.
"Santa María Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros los pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén".
The mother looks up again. There it was once more, that baby scent. A sudden burst of wind whips thru the canopy, lingers next to her. It caresses the side of her face. She can smell him, can feel his lips brushing her cheek, sense him whispering into her soul that he loves her. Her lips move soundlessly.
"Santa María Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros los pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén".
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