Maria

maria

The Little Businessman and Co. led me into a posada I didn’t even know existed. I paid the attendant 20 pesos for them to use the facilities.

Cecelia was mad that it was 20 pesos; she didn’t think Marisella, not even one and attached to her back, should count, so she gave the baby a bath in the sink while the boys and I poked around.

Agostino took me over to a little fountain that was fashioned to look like a storybook well.  He said, “There are fish.” I looked in, no fish.  I said: “Tortugas. These are turtles.”  He repeated: “Tortugas, tortugas.”

We walked around the courtyard named Plaza de las Virgenes.  He pointed to various images of the virgins  Who’s that? That’s Mother Mary. Who’s that? That’s the Virgin of Juquila.  And, she’s the Virgin of Guadalupe.  She’s the Virgin of Soledad.

When he asked me who the golden man nailed to the cross was, I told him: Jesus.

Part of me thought this might be a pop quiz to see if I will avoid Hell’s fire.  Another part of me was relieved he didn’t ask for more details.  And, then there’s the part of me that worries no one has told him any great stories.

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