La Virgen Andariega
The sacristan took care of the chapel and guarded over the sacred image of the Virgen del Rosario de Agua Santa well known for her miracles. She healed people from sickness and protected the town from volcanic eruptions. Every morning the sacristan opened the doors and swept the floor. He lit candles and said the rosary. He was a simple man.
One morning, the sacristan found a trail of muddy footprints tracking through the chapel to the altar. The footprints climbed right up onto the altar across the lace cloth straight to the Virgin. The sacristan thought someone had come to steal the Virgin. He went up close to her and lifted her up in both hands. He turned the image over and over. But she was perfect. Unharmed.
The sacristan washed the cloth and set it back onto the altar with the Virgin on top. But the next morning, the sacristan opened the chapel and again found the muddy footprints. This time the Virgin stood sideways facing the window, not quite centered between two bronze vases.
The sacristan had had enough. He planned to catch the thief. That night he locked the doors and sat in front of them with a machete across his knees. Before long he fell asleep. Just before dawn, the sacristan woke to a bright blue light and watched, amazed as the Virgin climbed from the altar and walked toward the door. Two golden angels accompanied her. The sacristan followed through the predawn light to the waterfall. He hid behind a tree and spied on the Virgin as she bathed in the springs. When she was done, she climbed out of the water, dressed and returned with the angels to the chapel. She walked down the center aisle and scrambled back up onto the altar. Within minutes a blue light flooded the chapel and the sacristan covered his eyes. When he looked up again the light had gone and the Virgin had turned back into a statue. Beneath her, muddy footprints smeared the white cloth. At this sight, the sacristan kneeled and crossed himself.
But you see, just then the sacristan felt a hand on his shoulder. The priest had arrived from the hacienda in Patate, ‘Good morning my son,’ he greeted the sacristan.
Before the sacristan could say anything, the priest stepped up to the altar.
“What’s this?’ He pointed at the mud. ‘You fool, you’ve been drinking! Have you no respect?’ The priest grabbed the sacristan’s ear and began hitting him over the head. ‘You lazy useless good for nothing…’ Then he threw the cloth in the sacristan’s face.
The sacristan snatched the cloth before it fell to the ground and ran from the chapel. Once again he spent the morning washing the cloth in the river, drying it in the sun and ironing it with great care. This time he drank while he worked. By the time dusk fell, he had a plan.
That night the sacristan returned to the chapel and sat in the shadows with his machete. Just before dawn he woke again to the bright light. The Virgin climbed down from the altar and the angels followed her. This time, though, the sacristan ran to the center aisle and knelt before the Virgin. He crossed himself several times and then said, ‘Little Virgin, don’t go out to the springs tonight. I beg of you. Please listen to your humble servant.”
But the Virgin didn’t notice. She moved neither to the left or the right, but suddenly she stood behind the sacristan and continued walking out into the night.
Enraged, the sacristan reached into his poncho and pulled out his flask of trago. He drank long and hard and then walked outside, shut the door and stood in the middle of the path with his machete drawn across his chest. He waited like this until he saw the light returning. As the angels approached he saw the Virgin walking between them with her hair dripping and her feet covered in mud.
The sacristan raised his machete and yelled in fury, ‘You foolish Virgin, I told you not to go to the spring. It’s not right. Not for a Christian Virgin like you. I told you but you are not a real Virgin at all. Virgen andariega, you are a wanderer, a prostitute, a common street walker.’
With that, the sacristan attacked the Virgin with his machete. Again and again he hacked at her legs until he succeeded in cutting her foot clear off.
“Now we’ll see if you can walk again! Virgen andariega!’ He spat at her as she huddled on the ground with her hands pressed against raw flesh. As he spat, the blood from the Virgin’s wound sprayed across the sacristan’s face. He screamed once and fainted.
That next morning, when the women from town came to say their prayers, they found the sacristan unconscious, lying in a pool of blood. In his hands he held the statue of the Virgin covered in mud. The little Virgin’s left foot had been snapped off at the ankle leaving fine splinters and jagged wood. Stunned, the women believed that the sacristan had intercepted a thief. In the scuffle, the Virgin’s foot had broken.
The women carried the sacristan home and bathed him, but they found no wounds. When he woke he spoke deliriously of the Virgin walking in the night and how he had stopped her with his machete. After that, he was never right in the head. He spent the rest of his days stumbling through town, drinking trago, mumbling and begging for bread.
As for the Virgin, she never again bathed in the springs. Crippled as she was, she could no longer walk.
One morning, the sacristan found a trail of muddy footprints tracking through the chapel to the altar. The footprints climbed right up onto the altar across the lace cloth straight to the Virgin. The sacristan thought someone had come to steal the Virgin. He went up close to her and lifted her up in both hands. He turned the image over and over. But she was perfect. Unharmed.
The sacristan washed the cloth and set it back onto the altar with the Virgin on top. But the next morning, the sacristan opened the chapel and again found the muddy footprints. This time the Virgin stood sideways facing the window, not quite centered between two bronze vases.
The sacristan had had enough. He planned to catch the thief. That night he locked the doors and sat in front of them with a machete across his knees. Before long he fell asleep. Just before dawn, the sacristan woke to a bright blue light and watched, amazed as the Virgin climbed from the altar and walked toward the door. Two golden angels accompanied her. The sacristan followed through the predawn light to the waterfall. He hid behind a tree and spied on the Virgin as she bathed in the springs. When she was done, she climbed out of the water, dressed and returned with the angels to the chapel. She walked down the center aisle and scrambled back up onto the altar. Within minutes a blue light flooded the chapel and the sacristan covered his eyes. When he looked up again the light had gone and the Virgin had turned back into a statue. Beneath her, muddy footprints smeared the white cloth. At this sight, the sacristan kneeled and crossed himself.
But you see, just then the sacristan felt a hand on his shoulder. The priest had arrived from the hacienda in Patate, ‘Good morning my son,’ he greeted the sacristan.
Before the sacristan could say anything, the priest stepped up to the altar.
“What’s this?’ He pointed at the mud. ‘You fool, you’ve been drinking! Have you no respect?’ The priest grabbed the sacristan’s ear and began hitting him over the head. ‘You lazy useless good for nothing…’ Then he threw the cloth in the sacristan’s face.
The sacristan snatched the cloth before it fell to the ground and ran from the chapel. Once again he spent the morning washing the cloth in the river, drying it in the sun and ironing it with great care. This time he drank while he worked. By the time dusk fell, he had a plan.
That night the sacristan returned to the chapel and sat in the shadows with his machete. Just before dawn he woke again to the bright light. The Virgin climbed down from the altar and the angels followed her. This time, though, the sacristan ran to the center aisle and knelt before the Virgin. He crossed himself several times and then said, ‘Little Virgin, don’t go out to the springs tonight. I beg of you. Please listen to your humble servant.”
But the Virgin didn’t notice. She moved neither to the left or the right, but suddenly she stood behind the sacristan and continued walking out into the night.
Enraged, the sacristan reached into his poncho and pulled out his flask of trago. He drank long and hard and then walked outside, shut the door and stood in the middle of the path with his machete drawn across his chest. He waited like this until he saw the light returning. As the angels approached he saw the Virgin walking between them with her hair dripping and her feet covered in mud.
The sacristan raised his machete and yelled in fury, ‘You foolish Virgin, I told you not to go to the spring. It’s not right. Not for a Christian Virgin like you. I told you but you are not a real Virgin at all. Virgen andariega, you are a wanderer, a prostitute, a common street walker.’
With that, the sacristan attacked the Virgin with his machete. Again and again he hacked at her legs until he succeeded in cutting her foot clear off.
“Now we’ll see if you can walk again! Virgen andariega!’ He spat at her as she huddled on the ground with her hands pressed against raw flesh. As he spat, the blood from the Virgin’s wound sprayed across the sacristan’s face. He screamed once and fainted.
That next morning, when the women from town came to say their prayers, they found the sacristan unconscious, lying in a pool of blood. In his hands he held the statue of the Virgin covered in mud. The little Virgin’s left foot had been snapped off at the ankle leaving fine splinters and jagged wood. Stunned, the women believed that the sacristan had intercepted a thief. In the scuffle, the Virgin’s foot had broken.
The women carried the sacristan home and bathed him, but they found no wounds. When he woke he spoke deliriously of the Virgin walking in the night and how he had stopped her with his machete. After that, he was never right in the head. He spent the rest of his days stumbling through town, drinking trago, mumbling and begging for bread.
As for the Virgin, she never again bathed in the springs. Crippled as she was, she could no longer walk.
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