By The River Piedra I Sat Down & Wept

'The cavern,' he said. 'Let's go there.'

It was impossible to pass through the torrent of water. But ancient monks had constructed a tunnel that started at the highest point of the falls and descended through the earth to a place at the rear of the grotto.

It wasn't difficult to find the entrance. During the summer, there may even have been lights showing the way, but now the tunnel was completely dark.

'Is this the right way?' I asked.

'Yes. Trust me.'

We began to descend through the hole at the side of the falls. Although we were in complete darkness, we knew where we were goingand he asked me again to trust him.

Thank you, Lord, I was thinking, as we went deeper and deeper into the earth, because I was a lost sheep, and you brought me back. Because my life was dead, and you revived it. Because lave wasn't alive in my heart, and you gave me back that gift.

I held on to his shoulder. My loved one guided my steps through the darkness, knowing that we would see the light again and that it would bring us joy. Perhaps in our future there would be moments when the situation was reversed—when I would guide him with the same love and certainty until we reached a safe place and could rest together.

We walked slowly, and it seemed as if we would never stop descending. Maybe this was another rite of passage, marking the end of an era in which there had been no light in my life. As I walked through the tunnel, I was remembering how much time I had wasted in one place, trying to put down roots in soil where nothing could grow any longer.

But God was good and had given me back my lost enthusiasm, directing me toward the adventures I had always dreamed about. And toward the man who—without my knowing it—had waited for me all my life. I felt no remorse over the fact that he was leaving the seminary—there were many ways to serve God, as the padre had said, and our love only multiplied the number of them. Starting now, I would also have the chance to serve and help—all because of him.

We would go out into the world, bringing comfort to others and to each other.

Thank you, Lord, for helping me to serve. Teach me to he worthy of that. Give me the strength to he a part of his mission, to walk with him on this earth, and to develop my spiritual life anew. May all our days he as these have been—going from place to place, curing the sick, comforting those in sorrow, speaking of the Great Mother's love for all of us.

Suddenly, the sound of water could be heard again and light flooded our path. The dark tunnel was transformed into one of the most beautiful spectacles on earth. We were in an immense cavern, the size of a cathedral. Three of its walls were of stone, and the fourth was the Horses Tail, with its water falling into the emerald-green lake at our feet.

The rays of the setting sun passed through the waterfall, and the moist walls glittered.

We leaned back against the stone wall, saying nothing.

When we were children, this place was a pirates' hide-out, where the treasures of our childhood imagination were kept. Now, it was the miracle of Mother Earth; I knew she was there and felt myself to be in her womb. She was protecting us with her walls of stone and washing away our sins with her purifying water.

'Thank you,' I said in a loud voice.

'Whom are you thanking?'

'Her. And you, because you were an instrument in restoring my faith.'

He walked to the edge of the water. Looking out, he smiled. 'Come over here,' he said.

I joined him.

'I want to tell you something you don't know about yet,' he said.

His words worried me a little. But he looked calm and happy, and that reassured me.

'Every person on earth has a gift,' he began. 'In some, the gift manifests itself spontaneously; others have to work to discover what it is. I worked with my gift during the four years I was at the seminary.'

Now I would have to 'play a role,' as he had taught me when the old man had barred us from the church. I would have to feign that I knew nothing. There's nothing wrong with doing this, I told myself. This is a not a script based on frustration but on happiness.

'What did you do at the seminary?' I asked, trying to stall for time in order to play my role better.

'That doesn't matter,' he said. 'The fact is that I developed a gift. I am able to cure, when God so wills it.'

'That's wonderful,' I answered, acting surprised. 'We won't have to spend money on doctors!'

He didn't laugh. I felt like an idiot.

'I developed my gift through the Charismatic practices that you saw,' he went on. 'In the beginning, I was surprised. I would pray, asking that the Holy Spirit appear, and then, through the laying on of my hands, I would restore many of the sick to good health. My reputation began to spread, and every day people lined up at the gates of the seminary, seeking my help. In every infected, smelly laceration, I saw the wounds of Jesus.'

'I'm so proud of you,' I said.

'Many of the people at the monastery opposed me, but my superior gave me his complete support.'

'We'll continue this work. We'll go out together into the world. I will clean and bathe the wounds, and you will bless them, and God will demonstrate His miracles.'

He looked away from me, out at the lake. There seemed to be a presence in the cavern similar to the one I had sensed that night in Saint-Savin when we had gotten drunk at the well in the plaza.

'I've already told you this, but I'll say it again,' he continued. 'One night I awoke, and my room was completely bright. I saw the face of the Great Mother; I saw Her loving look. After that, She began to appear to me from time to time. I cannot make it happen, but every once in a while, She appears.

'By the time of my first vision, I was already aware of the work being done by the true revolutionaries of the church. I knew that my mission on earth, in addition to curing, was to smooth the way for this new acceptance as a woman. The feminine principle, the column of Misericordia, would be rebuilt—and the temple of wisdom would be reconstructed in the hearts of all people.'

I was staring at him. His face, which had grown tense, now relaxed again.

'This carried a price—which I was willing to pay.'

He stopped, as if not knowing how to go on with his story.

'What do you mean when you say you were willing?' I asked.

'The path of the Goddess can only be opened through words and miracles. But that's not the way the world works. It's going to be very hard—tears, lack of understanding, suffering.'

That padre, I thought to myself. He tried to put fear in bis heart. But I shall be bis comfort.

'The path isn't about pain; it's about the glory of serving,' I answered.

'Most human beings still cannot trust love.'

I felt that he was trying to tell me something but couldn't. I wanted to help him.

'I've been thinking about that,' I broke in. 'The first man who climbed the highest peak in the Pyrenees must have felt that a life without that kind of adventure would lack grace.'

'What do you mean when you use the word grace?' he asked me, and I could see that he was feeling tense again. 'One of the names of the Great Mother is Our Lady of the Graces. Her generous hands heap Her blessings on those who know how to receive them. We can never judge the lives of others, because each person knows only their own pain and renunciation. It's one thing to feel that you are on the right path, but it's another to think that yours is the only path.

'Jesus said, 'The house of my Father has many mansions.' A gift is a grace, or a mercy. But it is also a mercy to know how to live a life of dignity, love, and work. Mary had a husband on earth who tried to demonstrate the value of anonymous work. Although he was not heard from very much, he was the one who provided the roof over their heads and the food for their mouths, who allowed his wife and son to do all that they did. His work was as important as theirs, even though no one ever gave him much credit.'