Cadena de Amor

The last time I saw my grandmother, her tiny, frail body was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and machines. I was eight years old and my family was visiting her after Mass on a warm Autumn day. Before entering the sterile room, I was happily joking around with my sister, but as soon as I saw her and heard her heavy, labored breathing, I got quiet and uncomfortable.

My dad spoke to her about family news and world events as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He pushed me forward to greet her, and as soon as he did, my grandmother grabbed me with one of her bony hands. When I tried to pull away, she tightened up her grip on my hand, and I was surprised that someone so weak could summon up so much strength. I held her hand until a coughing spell forced us apart and we all had to leave the room.

My grandmother had emphysema for as long as I can remember, so it is hard for me to think of her in her prime. Holding her hand is one thing I will never forget and it sticks with me because it compels me to keep reaching out to the sick and the needy, even if it is in a small way and it makes me feel awkward.

I do recollect visiting my grandmother in her apartment, where she always seemed to be saying the Rosary. Even when she was wheelchair-bound and wearing a robe, she grasped a set of Rosary beads and said the devotion made up of sets of one Lord's Prayer, ten Hail Marys, and reflections on the Mysteries of the Rosary. Every time I hold a pair of Rosary beads, I feel that connection we had when I held her hands almost 20 years ago.

So, when a group of church members invites the three of us to attend a Living Rosary at a stadium on Saturday, I feel excited, though I do not know much about the devotion, and even Jessica isn't sure what exactly a Living Rosary will entail. Like other participants, we dress in red, and board a bus with about 60 other people and go into the city for the event.

We enter the Blue Cross Stadium around 5:00 and spend about an hour waiting for the event to begin. While we wait, a mariachi band plays, chips and popcorn are passed about, and the wave goes around the stadium several times. About 10,000 people are there, comprised of different groups of churches who have been told to wear specific colors. People unfold and display giant cloths containing the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

The event begins and the whole stadium chants Hail Marys and Our Fathers. Between sets, various Mysteries of the Rosary (events in the lives of Jesus Christ and Mary) are acted out. Trying to figure out what Bible passages the mysteries come from is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle to me, as I have to piece together what I know of the New Testament and Spanish. I hear "Isabel" and see two women hugging and deduce it is Mary's visit to Elizabeth during their pregnancies. When a group of angels surround Mary, Joseph and a donkey (acted out by a group of people dressed in white holding white umbrellas over them,) and then a baby comes up, I am pretty sure I am seeing Jesus' birth. My favorite part is when a group of white doves are released during the Ascension of Jesus.

Despite being a little unclear as to what is going on, it is moving to see so many people praying to Mary. I imagine that like me, many attendees have seen older relatives participating in the devotion, and that increases their love of the Rosary. Additionally, as Mary is a compassionate figure that Catholics look to for comfort and try to emulate (both my mother and all my aunts were named after her), I think that when people honor Mary, they also remember other Catholic women in their lives.

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The other reason that the Virgin Mary is so popular among Mexicans is because an apparition of her appeared here during the 16th century. An indigenous man named Juan Diego saw her as a young native figure, and she asked for a church to be built in her honor. The bishop at the time asked for a miraculous sign to prove it was really her. Juan Diego returned to the mountain and she gave him a group of roses, despite the fact it was winter time. Additionally, her image appeared on his cloak, and to this day that image has survived, even though it should have worn out by now.

I saw Mexico's love for the Virgin of Guadalupe on Thursday, when Padre Salvador took us to the campus of the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe. The site is comprised of over a half-dozen churches, chapels and baptismal spots. I had never before seen so many religious buildings in one contained place.

First we visited the new Basilica, a huge, round modern structure that contains seats for 10,000 people. The cloak with the image of the Virgin hangs above the altar, and on the floor beneath it, visitors ride on a conveyor belt to view it. After several trips to view it, we left the Basilica, but Padre ran into a priest friend who invited us to go up on the altar and view it. Upon hearing this, Lupita (a friend accompanying whose nickname is short for Guadalupe) became teary-eyed and she held her hand to her heart. We took an elevator to the top floor of the church and we where brought to the altar where we sat, in groups of three, and saw an up-close vision of the cloak.

We also went inside the small church originally built for the Virgin where Juan Diego lived. The first Basilica, a castle-like structure that took over 100 years to build during the 16th, 16th and 18th centuries, is sinking and falling apart. Additionally, we climbed up a huge, peaceful hill containing waterfalls and statues of the Virgin and children in order to visit another church built in her honor.

It is touching to think that reporting of sightings from a simple man such as Juan Diego could have inspired a site that is one of the most visited Catholic pilgrimages in the world. While I enjoyed sharing the experience with Padre and the other girls, the churches blurred together a bit. When I think of Mary, I will continue to think of holding my Grandmother's hand, and I believe it was the link we share extends to the children here that I spend my days hugging.