Nuestra Senora de la Salud
By JoEllen Moldoff
She is becoming more beautiful each day like ripening fruit. The yellows, oranges, terra cotta hues of Mexico infuse her blood. In Patzcuaro we make a pilgrimage to the Basilica to pray for blessings from Nuestra Senora de la Salud. In the dark womb of the church, at the altar, glowing from within the glass shrine, the Blessed Mother. Behind the altar hundreds of milagros, pinned on a red velvet cloth by Purhepecha Indians, petition Salus Informorum, Healer of the Sick, whose miracles came to light five centuries ago. My friend’s eyes blaze like obsidian under the brim of her hat. We light candles. Later in the casa, her face aglow in the bronze sunset, she bares her head fuzzed with new hair. Our voices wrap tightly around this moment, we sip tea.
©2008 JoEllen Moldoff