so this story has been told to me every year on my birthday since i can remember. i am writing it down because since it came from the "horse's mouth" i want to make sure i get it right and not wait until i am so old and gray that i might forget. my mom was visited by the virgin mary. no, she didn't contact the vatican or the papers or anything like that. it's always been just one of our family stories. we all know about it, believe it, and think it is a wonderful gift. now i'm sharing it.




Florencia Ramona Pazos Guerra de Gonzalez had been married for almost thirteen years without having a successful pregnancy. She had tried and conceived three times and all three times it ended in her first trimester. The doctors didn't have an explanation and at 39 it seemed very unlikely that her wish to have a baby would be fulfilled. Despondent, she sobbed in her mother's arms as Rosa stroked her hair. "what is your hearts desire, mi hija?" her mother asked. "to have a baby, a baby girl" Flor responded through her tears. "then pray" Rosa said, her catholic upbringing of petitioning the saints to intercede was strongly on her mind. "pray to the virgin mary, the mother of jesus and make your desires known to her . let her intercede and see your heart." Flor dried her tears and went to bed... and prayed. As Flor lay napping one afternoon, she was awakened by a light, thinking someone had come into the room she looked up. There in the corner of her room was a shining light, out of the light stepped a figure. a woman with a blue mantle. she came towards Flor to the foot of her bed. three times never turning her back. on the third time a baby was cradled in her arms. the light faded and she was gone. "mami, mami!" Flor cried out as her mother rushed into her room. They hugged and cried and gave thanks for the miracle she had experienced. Being a good catholic, the next morning Rosa took Flor and they lit candles and prayed at the statue of the virgin mary.




as a child i would hear this story and my eyes would grow huge like saucers and i would look at my mother waiting for her to begin laughing at pulling a fast one on me. but the story never changed, and instead of laughing, my mom's eyes would well up with tears of thanksgiving. as i grew older i imagined the story with me as the central player and i was the huge miracle, which sounded pretty good to me when i was around 12. now i look at the story and realize the gift and the miracle was for my mom. that for her, for that moment in her life, God had looked upon her with favor and granted her her life's desire. i don't ever want to forget that in the big things and the small things God is always there.























this picture of the virgin mary has been in my mother's
wallet for as long as i can remember... she put in her wallet when i was born. it's still there.