When I think of Mother’s Day, I think of the Virgin Mary. I was born in a family where my mother received from her mother a devotion to her. I lived in a culture marked by Marian traditions and celebrations. When I was little and went to church, I used to see people light candles to the image of a woman carrying a child in her arms. These experiences immersed me in the mysteries of God at a young age, and they left a profound mark in the psyche, in my soul.
In my emotional memory, where time stands still, I can re-create the emotion and amazement that I felt when I lighted a candle, asked Mary for a blessing and felt my mother’s joy as I accompanied her.
Looking back at these years, like in the story in Genesis, everything was good. Today, I recognize that I received the gift of faith from my parents and the emotional connection to the Mother of the Christ Child. It’s in these first years of life where the seeds of faith are planted.
This assumes a conscious decision by the parents to model and introduce faith to their children at an age when they can experience the mystery of something momentous from the vantage point of their innocence. It’s the task of the “domestic Church” — using stories in the Bible and simple prayer rituals during meals and bedtime — to nourish the ground where that seed can grow. What is not watered, dries up and dies.
In my adolescent years, I studied at a school that promoted a Marian devotion. My classmates used to come together, under the guidance of a teacher, to read the Gospel and a newspaper, a way to relate Scripture to daily life. We used to plan our service activities with seniors, hospital visits and food collections for needy families.
Mary was the inspiration to get to know Jesus more deeply and intimately and to serve him, guided by his message, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matt 25:40).
I recognize today the gift of teachers who gave me advice and encouragement, of friends, and of an educational institution that promoted values, such as academic excellence and service to the community. I remember the times when I used to pass by the school chapel with its image of Mother Mary, which we used to call La Virgencita del Colegio, or “Little Virgin of the School.”
The confidence and “psychic” closeness to her I had developed since I was little allowed me to express to her my doubts, anxieties and needs spontaneously, with a secret security, given the love and accompaniment I felt from her.
As an adult, when I’m more conscious of my lights and shadows, of my limitations, of the accidental and the essential, of what is historic and significant … Mary is for me the feminine figure that inspires respect for women, the “archetype” of the universal mother that connects me with the Lord Jesus and his teachings; the intimate presence in whom I can share my fears, who can repair my emotional fractures and sustain my faith and hope, including in me and my humanity, all the while living in times of intense vulnerability.
Come walk with us, Holy Mother. Come!
Ricardo Márquez can be reached at marquez_muskus@yahoo.com.
