“Am I not here, I who am your Mother?”
Imagine four million people gathering to pray to Our Lady.
Imagine wave upon wave of bands, groups of dancers, and colorfully-garbed tribes of indigenous peoples, all converging on the home of their Mother.
Imagine the rhythmic, hypnotic drums beating non-stop for 48 hours and the fragrant beauty of roses offered to Our Lady by almost every group of pilgrims gathering for the week before her feast day.
Imagine a stream of people, from a simple country grandmother to a professional mariachi band, taking turns singing their love to Our Lady.
Even if you could imagine all this (and much more), you still could not capture the full flavor of the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe on December12, in Mexico City.
I was given a free place on a pilgrimage to the shrine for this feast day, and I will never forget it.
It wasn’t so much the lavish celebration of music— with everything from pennywhistles to brass bands to one of the largest pipe organs in the world, or the rich costumes, from pilgrim’s garb to the feathered headdress of one of the indigenous tribes to the glitter of mariachi outfits —that made it an unforgettable experience.
No, it was the sight of the little ones who pilgrimaged to the basilica, the “true home and womb” of their mother. Many had walked for 60 miles and then, for the final section of their pilgrimage, crawled on their knees across the plaza to the shrine. They brought their blankets and food and slept wherever they could.
I’m sure that many came with special requests for Our Lady. But they all brought their love and devotion, as shown in their gifts of flowers, dance, and song, or a float, or her picture.
In a steady procession, wave after wave of pilgrim groups danced, walked, or hobbled down the center aisle of the basilica. They knelt and prayed and received a blessing from Our Lady through the priests. And then they made way for the next group. It went on and on, hour after hour, day after day, until all had visited her.
Also palpable was Our Lady’s love and delight in her people. As she said to Juan Diego when she first began to visit there, “Am I not here, I who am your Mother?” These Mexican people know that she is their Mother, and they taught me to know it in a new way.
Let us approach the New Year with confidence, hearing Our Lady’s words in our hearts: “Am I not here, I who am your Mother?”
Cheryl Ann wrote this for Restoration in 1994.
