Hora Santa

September 13, 2007

Usually, hora santa or holy hour is far from holy. In the meditation of Spanish song and prayer, my mind wanders to what I want to snack on when we get home or when I am going to do laundry or how to say ‘I don’t understand anything’ in Spanish. In the hour, I may spend about ten minutes in prayer or actually focusing and the other forty minutes I am in la la land. Maybe it’s the language, maybe its late, and maybe its always warm…but I have not yet mastered the ability to take something from hora santa.

But, tonight was an exception. After what should have been a helpful and comforting meeting with Padre Daniel, I left feeling as in competent and hollow as I have felt here. Though he offered help and guidance, I felt awful and completely empty when we walked into the Church for hora santa. As I thought about how I felt and my feelings, I was extremely aware of how alone I felt. It was as though I had come to a low and recognized that all the people that usually comfort me were nowhere near me. The painfulness of being alone became even more apparent when the theme of hora santa was announced as immigrants and migrants. Surprisingly to me, a large number of people from Talanga leave and go work in Spain or in the United States. I guess I had never put two and two together that the immigration issue that is so controversial in the States may actually be fueled by the people I am living with. As we were given time to pray and meditate about immigrants and such, my thoughts drifted to my family at home, to my friends in Charlotte, and back to everything and everyone I love. It was heartbreaking and I honestly had to do everything in my power not to sob. I was just so aware of how empty and alone I felt.
At exactly that moment in the hora, Fatima held a basket of roses and invited everyone who had a family member outside of the country to go to the altar and place a rose in recognition of them. The center aisle of the Church filled. Person after person—young, old, male and female—picked a rose and then stood in line. And I realized that I wasn’t alone. I realized that I wasn’t the only person who missed someone so badly that tears were in their eyes and I realized that I wasn’t the only person who had to be without their family. And I thought about how my family would be doing the same thing in the United States for me. Women stood in line with tears running down their faces and as I felt my homesickness combine with their sadness, I literally sobbed. And when it was my turn to go to the altar to place a simple white rose, pictures of everyone I love flashed through my mind and my cheeks felt raw from dried tears. I needed to know that I wasn’t alone and I now know that.
I might be away from my family for a year, but these people never know when their loved ones will return. And so yes, I got something from hora santa. I found comfort in knowing that I am not the only one missing someone and that there are other people who can understand