The traditional narrative called "Nican Mopohua"
(16th century)
Truly I, your Mother, am here |
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Very
early one Saturday morning at the beginning of December of 1531, a poor
but respected Indian called Juan Diego (born, it is said, in
Cuauhtitlan and under the pastoral care of the religious community of
Tlatelolco) was on his way to Tlaltelolco on a holy errand. When he
reached the hill called Tepeyac dawn was breaking and he heard singing
coming from above the hill. The singing stopped and was not heard again,
but he heard a voice calling to him from the top of the hill. “Beloved
Juan Diego,” it said. He responded at once, bravely climbing the hill
towards the place where the voice was coming from.
When he reached the top he saw a Lady standing there,
who called him to herself. When he came close to her he was stunned with
how beautiful she was: her clothes shone like the sun. Then the Virgin
gave him her command: “Know, beloved son, that I am the immaculate
ever-virgin Mary, Mother of the true God who is the Origin of all life,
who creates all things and keeps them in being, the Lord of Heaven and
Earth. I greatly wish, I earnestly desire, that my house should be built
in this very place. I will show him to you there and praise him as I
show him, my Love and Compassion, my Help and Defense. For in truth I am
your compassionate Mother, yours and of all who live together in this
land and of any others who love me, seek me, and call on me with
confidence and devotion. In that house I will listen to their weeping
and their sadness, I will give them help in their troubles and a cure
for their misfortunes. So that this desire of mine may be fulfilled, go
to Mexico City, to the palace of the Bishop. Tell him that I have sent
you to him to tell him how much I want a house to be built here for me, a
church built here at the bottom of the hill.”
When Juan Diego arrived in the city he went
immediately to the house of the Bishop, Juan Zumárraga, a Franciscan.
But when the bishop heard what he had to say, he did not believe him
completely and said “My son, come another time and I will listen to you
then. Meanwhile I will consider what should be done about your wish and
your desire.”
Another day he saw the Queen of Heaven coming down
from where he had seen her. She came to meet him next to the hill,
stopped him, and said “Listen, my beloved son, have no fear or anxiety
in your heart. Do not try to do anything about your uncle’s grave
illness or about any other trouble of yours. For am I not here with you,
your mother? Are you not safe in the shadow of my protection? Am I not
the source of your life and your happiness? Am I not holding you in my
lap, wrapped in my arms? What else can you possibly need? Do not be
upset or distressed. Climb again, my beloved son, to the summit of this
hill, to the place where you saw me and heard me speak. You will find
flowers growing there. Pick them and gather them and bring them down to
me.”
Juan Diego came back down with the flowers he had
picked. She looked at them, took them with her blessed hands and put
them in his tilma, or cape. She told him: “Most beloved son,
these flowers are the sign that you are to carry to the Bishop. You
yourself are my messenger and I entrust myself to your faithfulness. I
strictly command you not to unfold your tilma in front of anyone
except the Bishop; but to him you should show what it is you are
carrying. As you do so, tell him the story of how I asked you to climb
to the top of the hill and pick the flowers there. Tell him everything
you saw and marveled at, so that he will believe you and undertake to
build the church I wish for.”
Obedient to the command of the Queen of Heaven, he
took the road to Mexico City. He went happily, confident that all would
turn out well. Coming into the palace he prostrated himself before the
Bishop and recounted all that he had seen and told him the errand on
which he had been sent. “My Lord,” he said, “I have done as you asked. I
went to my Lady, the Queen of Heaven, holy Mary, the Mother of God, and
told her that you had asked for a sign so that you might believe me and
build the church that the Virgin herself desires. I told her that I had
given my word to bring you back some sign of her wishes. She heard what
you had asked and accepted with good grace your request for some sign
so that you could fulfill her will. Today, very early, she sent me back
to see you.”
The whole city came running to see the holy image.
They wondered at it, accepted it as the work of God and made prayers to
him. And that day Juan Diego’s uncle, whom the Virgin had cured, told
them in what way she should be revered and said that her image should be
known as the ever-virgin Saint Mary of Guadalupe.
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