TEXT VII: Santísima Señora de San Juan de los Lagos,
We came to see you twice when they brought you to San Antonio, my mother and my sister Yolanda and two of my aunts, Tía Enedina and my Tía Perla, and we drove all the way from Beeville just to visit you and make our requests.
I don’t know what my Tía Enedina asked for, she’s always so secretive, but probably it had to do with her son Beto who doesn’t do anything but hang around the house and get into trouble. And my Tía Perla no doubt complained about her ladies’ problems–her ovaries that itch, her tangled fallopians, her uterus that makes her seasick with all its flipping and flopping. And Mami who said she only came along for the ride, lit three candles so you would bless us all and sweep jealousy and bitterness from our hearts because that’s what she says every day and every night. And my sister Yoli asked that you help her lose weight because I don’t want to wind up like Tía Perla, embroidering altar cloths and dressing saints.
But that was a year ago, Virgencita, and since then my cousin Beto was fined for killing the neighbor’s rooster with a flying Big Red bottle, and my Tía Perla is convinced her uterus has fallen because when she walks something inside her rattles like a maraca, and my mother and my aunts are arguing and yelling at each other same as always. And my stupid sister Yoli is still sending away for even stupider products like the Grasa Fantástica, guaranteed to burn away fat – It really works, Tere, just rub some on while you’re watching TV – only she’s fatter than ever and just as sad.
What I realize is that we all made the trip to San Antonio to ask something of you, Virgencita, we all needed you to listen to us. And of all of us, my mama and sister Yoli, and my aunts Enedina and Perla, of all of us, you granted me my petition and sent, just like I asked, a guy who would love only me because I was tired of looking at girls younger than me walking along the street or riding in cars or standing in front of the school with a guy’s arm hooked around their neck.
So what is it I’m asking for? Please, Virgencita. Lift this heavy cross from my shoulders and leave me like I was before, wind on my neck, my arms swinging free, and no one telling me how I ought to be.
Teresa Galindo
Beeville, Texas
(“The Heath Anthology of American Literature”. Paul Lauter. D.C. Heath and Company / Editora)
Mark the item which corresponds to the reason Teresa Galindo had for her third request to the Santísima Señora de San Juan de los Lagos: