The Healing Mass
by Marie Delgado Travis
I attended a Healing Mass in Houston, with two of my newfound Hispanic girlfriends, Rosa and Dalia. I had followed my husband to Texas and after spending a shy, lonely year as a newcomer to the city, I finally reached out in the hopes of meeting friends. I was surprised and pleased to learn that Houston has organizations and activities which address almost every conceivable interest.
It was through La Sociedad de Puertorriqueños en Houston, Inc., that I met Rosa and she introduced to her Mexican-American friend, Dalia. Both immediately won my admiration and friendship, because they are social workers, women who not only profess faith, but live it by helping the less fortunate.
During Mass, I felt lovingly sheltered with them on either side of me. It was a Charismatic service, so from time to time, we held hands, as we thanked God for His many gifts to us. Each of us is in her mid-fifties. Yet together, we already represent over half of the miracles in the Bible.
Rosa is legally blind, as a result of diabetes and laser surgeries gone awry. She is now undergoing steroid treatments, which have strengthened her eyesight. She is also the successful recipient of kidney AND pancreas transplants. None of which keep her from putting the needs of others first -- or from dancing a mean salsa. She is an elegant, almost Art Deco, beauty, with an even lovelier soul.
I don´t know Dalia quite as well. Dolly, .as we call her, is shorter than Rosa, wears glasses and her hair is usually rumpled, giving her an absentminded Professor look. It was Dolly who drove us to Church that evening, which explains why her hair always looks the way it does. Her night-driving was hair-raising, hilarious. ¨Where do I go now? Was I supposed to turn back there?¨ I was of no use, because I was new to Houston and have no sense of direction, anyway. We laughed that asking Rosa was literally the blind leading the blind. But we made it to Mass safely, in itself, an astounding miracle.
Dalia was unemployed for a while, but this turned out to be a blessing in disguise, since her Mom suddenly became quite ill. She seemed so close to death that a priest was called and she was given Last Rites. Then suddenly, she began to show signs of improvement, a kind of female Lazarus. Dolly is working again, thankfully as a social worker, not a Metro bus driver.
My own miracles are legion. I suffered from polio as a child, but recovered so fully, that you would never guess, unless I told you. A complete lensectomy recently restored my own extremely myopic vision. How could we, who have been so touched by God's mercy, ever cease to thank and praise Him?
As we sang the Alleluia, the image of a dear classmate came distinctly to mind. My high school friend Jean had died less than a year before, following a long bout with cancer. I was privileged to share precious time with Jeannie and witness her great faith as she faced her final days on this earth. Jeannie taught me a most important lesson in life – to live and die in faith and friendship. As the service continued, I warmly recalled the many times Jeannie and I attended Mass together and how I was always impressed by her angelic soprano voice.
During the ritual, we professed our faith: "He was born of the Virgin Mary." I recalled Jeannie's great devotion to our Blessed Mother. She had been an instructor to prospective converts to Catholicism. We used to laugh recalling how she was once reprimanded by her superiors for being "too dogmatic." It seems she told a candidate that if, as he claimed, he didn't believe in the Immaculate Conception, maybe he wasn't quite ready to convert. The supervisors in her church's religious education program were not amused. But Jeannie felt so strongly about this point of faith that she resigned. She was a gutsy, faith-filled lady.
It was now time for the Sanctus: "Heaven and earth are filled with Thy glory." I had no doubt that Jeannie was with the choir of angels at that very moment, singing God's majesty, along with us. My heart beat joyously, for she had suffered so much and was a courageous role model to those of us fortunate enough to have called her friend.
As we said the words that Jesus Himself gave us, I understood for the first time that the Lord's Prayer also echoes the complete unity between this world and the next, ¨ Thy Will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven." Feet on the ground, yet feeling so allied with Jeannie in heaven that I almost had taken on wings, I suddenly asked myself what day it was.
I mentioned Dalia, but I'm so absent-minded, that as my Mom says, no sé ni el día en que vivo. I'm never really sure what day – or often what year -- it is. It took a few seconds to calculate: "Let's see, it's ... uh, March ... March 26th, no ... March 27th." My hands flew to my face, "Oh, my gosh, today is Jeannie's birthday."
Rosa, Dalia and I hugged as we gave each other the Sign of Peace. My face was warm and streaked with tears. They say you're not supposed to swear, so please, let me just assure you. That evening, as the priest celebrating the Mass lifted the Eucharist, I SAW Jeannie's happy and radiant face. And she was playfully saying, "Surprise!"
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MARIE DELGADO TRAVIS is an award-winning writer. She writes poetry and prose in English and Spanish. Her poem, "The Window" recently won Second Prize in the international Tom Howard Poetry Contest (over 1,600 entries received). Marie's web site is http://hometown.aol.com/marilutravis/index.html. E-mail: poetexx@aol.com
