even though She sensed that She was receiving, along with the words of the angel, all the pain and suffering of Her destiny; even though Her heart's eyes could see Her beloved son leaving the house, could see the people who would follow Him and then deny Him; but
"Thy will be done,"
even when, at the most sacred moment in a woman's life, She had to lie down with the animals in a stable to give birth, because that was what the Scriptures required;
"Thy will be done,"
even when, in agony, She looked through the streets for Her son and found Him at the temple. And He asked that She not interfere because He had other obligations and tasks to perform;
"Thy will be done,"
even when She knew that She would search for Him for the rest of Her days, Her heart filled with pain, fearing every moment for His life, knowing that He was being persecuted and threatened;
"Thy will be done,"
even when, finding Him in the crowd, She was unable to draw near Him;
"Thy will be done,"
even when She asked someone to tell Him that She was there and the son sent back the response, "My mother and my brothers are those who are here with me";
"Thy will be done,"
even when at the end, after everyone had fled, only She, another woman, and one of them stood at the foot of the cross, bearing the laughter of His enemies and the cowardice of His friends;
"Thy will be done."
Thy will be done, my Lord. Because you know the weakness in the heart of your children, and you assign each of them only the burden they can bear. May you understand my love--because it is the only thing I have that is really mine, the only thing that I will be able to take with me into the next life. Please allow it to be courageous and pure; please make it capable of surviving the snares of the world.
The organ stopped, and the sun went into hiding behind the mountains--as if both were ruled by the same Hand. The music had been his prayer, and his prayer had been heard. I opened my eyes and found the church in complete darkness, except for the solitary candle that illuminated the image of the Virgin.
I heard his footsteps again, returning to where I sat. The light of that single candle gleamed on my tears, and my smile--a smile that wasn't perhaps as beautiful as the Virgin's--showed that my heart was alive.
He looked at me, and I at him. My hand reached out for his and found it. Now it was his heart that was beating faster--I could almost hear it in the silence.
But my soul was serene, and my heart at peace.
I held his hand, and he embraced me. We stood there at the feet of the Virgin for I don't know how long. Time had stopped.
She looked down at us. The adolescent girl who had said "yes" to her destiny. The woman who had agreed to carry the son of God in Her womb and the love of God in Her heart. She understood.
I didn't want to ask for anything. That afternoon in the church had made the entire journey worthwhile. Those four days with him had made up for an entire year in which so little had happened.
We left the church hand in hand and walked back toward our room. My head was spinning--seminary, Great Mother, the meeting he had later that night.
I realized then that we both wanted to unite our souls under one destiny--but the seminary and Zaragoza stood in the way. My heart felt squeezed. I looked around at the medieval homes and the well where we had sat the previous night. I recalled the silence and the sadness of the Other, the woman I had once been.
God, I am trying to recover my faith. Please don't abandon me in the middle of this adventure, I prayed, pushing my fears aside.
HE SLEPT A LITTLE, but I stayed awake, looking out the darkened window. Later, we got up and dined with the family--they never spoke at the table. He asked for a key to the house.
"We'll be home late tonight," he said to the woman.
"Young people should enjoy themselves," she answered, "and take advantage of the holidays as best they can."
"I have to ask you something," I said, when we were back in the car. "I've been trying to avoid it, but I have to ask."
"The seminary," he said.