Mass In Mexico

When I was a little girl in Mexico, every Sunday my sister and I would go to Mass together.  My mom would send us off to church with our Sunday allowance and I remembered how much I enjoyed those mornings when I would trail behind my big sis and her cool friends.  She was in the choir as a teenager and I worshipped the ground she walked in.  We would always stop on the way home from church and buy a treat and as they gossiped among friends I got lost in little girl imaginations.  In Mexico, most of our holidays were centered around our faith and my sister and her group of friends were constantly organizing posadas, las mañanitas for Mother Mary and our moms, the feast of our Lady of Guadalupe, pilgrimages, the big four-day-pueblo celebration for our Patron Saint John the Baptist.  Our lives were simple and followed the liturgical calendar to some degree.  My last year in Mexico, I prepared to celebrate my first communion and it was such a big deal- my mom and my sister went to a nearby city to get me the grandest dress for my big day.  As the day got closer I studied a great deal and my sister and mom quizzed me constantly on the common Catholic prayers.  We had this red Bible and on occasional pages it had stenciled drawings of the life of Jesus and I loved contemplating on the pictures creating little stories in my mind. 

This past Sunday, I got to celebrate Mass in Mexico and all these precious memories invaded my mind!  It turned out that we were staying near Misión de San José del Cabo Añuti, a mission founded in 1730 by Father Nicolas Tamaral. The mission is beautiful and very reminiscent of the California missions.  It’s built in the standard shape of a cross and has two rows of pews that lead to the altar.  I really enjoyed the service because I saw little girls with their big sisters participating in the liturgy (smile).  They say that cultural Catholicism is dead, but in Mexico there’s still traces of our hereditary faith.  Outside the church was a kiosk and a large plaza – which reminded me of my town set-up in Michoacán.  In my pueblo there too is a kiosk outside the parish with a giant plaza where it’s typical for towns’ people to gather- making the church the heart of the pueblo.  The mercados usually set up around the plaza which makes it convenient for women to stop by the parish for daily Mass on their way for groceries.  All these sweet memories returned as I toured the small city of Cabo San Jose.  I saw traces of my sister and me in the faces of the kids and teens in their Sunday best.  It was such a happy Sunday to be in my birth country celebrating Mass and being filled with such treasured memories! Below are some pictures, enjoy.