Of Healing Lakes, Virgins, and the Lady in Red

I returned to an empty house after an hour of step aerobics amongst beautiful Latinas with suave hips accustom to salsa moves. My rhythm resembled that of Steve Martin in "The Jerk." I got the usual looks of curiosity for being the only "Rubia" in the room and perhaps a few extra glances for my robot hips. All this was made worse when I got home and looked in the mirror and noticed that I had not one, but about ten black specks in between my teeth from the grilled corn on the cob I had purchased from a street vendor and consumed prior to aerobics. I might have just looked a little, well, special in a "she must ride the short bus" sort of way.

I took advantage of being alone in the house and took a long, reasonably hot shower. I even took time to shave my legs. I don't want to end up gordita and hairy. Before my shower was complete, I heard the familiar voices of my family returning. Jaydn and Chad came directly into the bathroom to tell me a story. They had been riding some small, carnival-like rides in the street (as dangerous as driving). These rides are here for Feria San Pedro Tlaquepaque - a festival that as far as I can figure is the equivalent of a town in the U.S. having a yearly celebration with a parade, carnival, rodeo, a fair, etc. I'm assuming there is a lot more night time activity than usual. Downtown is fairly crowded. A young woman wearing a red shirt and with a baby in a stroller approached Chad and asked him for money to buy milk for her baby. He was caught a bit off guard and said "no pesos." The same scenario happens with those on the street at home anytime you are downtown. We have always offered to buy food but don't usually give money directly. Right or wrong? I don't know. I struggle with what my response should be to those asking for money. Look them in the eye? Don't look? Stop and talk and try to get their story or keep walking? Hand them money? Buy them a meal? I know that many people face these same questions on a daily basis.

As the woman walked away, Chad knew he had done the wrong thing. He did have pesos. The girls knew he had pesos. The girls had pesos to ride the overpriced rides. He said that the baby did look hungry. He knew immediately that he did not respond the way he should have to this situation. The girls wanted to continue to ride the rides but Chad just kept thinking "I did the wrong thing. I need to make it right." The girls reluctantly agreed to leave the rides and look for the woman. They did not find her and came home. When he and Jaydn relayed the story to me I felt a small pain at my core. I said "Would you like to go and try to find her?"

His reply was "Would you mind? I would like to do that." He had wanted to ask me but felt guilt about leaving because he had been gone all day. Before leaving he poured Azlyn a glass of milk and this small act in the midst of this situation was painful. What if that were Azlyn that needed milk?

He left and as I finished my shower I exhaled a small prayer that went something like:

"God, if that child is really hungry and if that mother is experiencing anxiety and pain about where, when, and if she is going to find her baby's next meal (a worse plight I cannot think of), then please, please, let them find one another."

Chad returned about ten minutes later. Before searching for her, he bought some milk and yogurt (there is an act of faith!), all the while, he kept hoping to make the situation "right." He walked to the carnival area and did not see her. He walked to an area near El Jardin where a band was playing and tried to think of where he might go if he were in her shoes. He decided that he wouldn't be listening to a band and from El Jardin, looked down a couple of other streets. He decided to walk down Independencia Avenue, a pedestrian only street that is busy this time of night - even more so with the festival activities. He thought this might be the logical place for her to go seeking shoppers with change from recent purchases remaining in their pockets. Tents temporarily housing a variety of vendors lined the center of the street. He could have chosen to walk on either side of the tents. He chose to go on the right side of the tents first and within a few moments there was the woman in the red shirt with the hungry baby continuing to ask people for money. She was wearing the only red shirt in a sea of people. A Mexican woman was reaching into her pocket for pesos for the lady in red, something Chad noted he has seen repeatedly. We have rarely seen a Mexican person turn down someone asking for money. Their hands seem quick to go in their pockets and share what they have. He waited until she was done receiving the money and then handed her the bag of needed groceries and walked away.

People here seem to speak of the Divine as freely and as often as Americans seem to discuss professional sports. In a week and a half I have already heard of the healing powers of Lake Chapala, the presence of spirits at El Refugio, and of the miracles that occur in the presence of the Virgin of Zapopan. Was this a miracle? I don't know. The chances of him finding the lady in red again were fairly slim. So, perhaps yes, this was divine intervention. Chad was soothed by being able to correct his response. A better example was set for our daughters. A baby was fed and a mother's anxiety was quelled if only for a night.

Perhaps the miracle is that the Virgin of Zapopan seems to be bonking us on the head reminding us that giving is the most important lesson in this life. Just as we are in the beginning stages of our Spanish studies, we seem to be beginning students in the art of giving. We have so very much to learn. Perhaps the miracle is recognizing this and trying to genuinely change the ways we respond to all those in need. I am waiting for that miracle to happen.