Since childhood, I had a certain terror in the images of plaster, as virgins, saints and all who are worshiped by the Catholic Church. In fact, I remember that my grandmother took me to the processions that took place in my city.
Since it was very small, the rocket echoes in my ears, and I just wanted it to end very fast, so I could go home and stop hearing that ugly noise.
Years passed and I followed new cultures, not equal to those of my grandmother, who were strange cultures and beliefs.
When I was about 18 years old, my father had been unemployed for several months. He was at home, a little discouraged and worried, as savings began to dwindle and expenses became difficult to bear.
My father one day went out to look for job offers, in that walk he found a friend from the past, who gave him a picture of a virgin named Santa Barbara and recommended that he light a candle and say the words that appeared in the back of the figure.
He put the figure in his room and always had a red candle lit.
He asked her every night to get a good job.
After 15 days he received a very good job offer and went to another state to work. When she received her first payment, the first thing she did was deposit to buy a very large image of Santa Barbara, in gratitude for the work she said, thanks to her.
Accompany my mother on a Saturday I remember buying that very large plaster, I opened a space in the living room of the house and there they placed it.
It was a very uncomfortable moment for me, as I mentioned since I was a little girl, I did not like big pictures.
I felt a strange visit in my house, I was terrified, it was uncomfortable to walk around the house and see all the red candles I had always lit.
On December 8, Santa Barbara's birthday was celebrated in several places. My father, as expected, had a great celebration in his first year with her in 2010.
Invite many children, because supposedly their parties can not fail. There were many sweets, a red decoration, because this is the color that represents it.
There were piñatas, lots of food, music with drums, candles and many red roses.
A neighbor also celebrated but was a bit more self-centered than one might say, on his altar there was even the blood of the animals that were slaughtered that day.
All that big party ended that night.
Throughout the days my father began to put aside those celebrations and little by little his idolater cooled down, the candles no longer lit, let alone bought their offerings.
In March 2011, we received a call from the hotel where my father was staying to inform us that he had suffered a heart attack.
We traveled immediately to the state in which he was, we were very strong, the diagnosis was not positive, because he also suffered a stroke. His whole body was paralyzed.
I was hospitalized for several months, I returned alone to my house and my mother accompanied him in his recovery.
There was that image in the living room of my house, but for my part I was not going to receive any kind of attention. The nights were full of noises, the doors of the rooms opened themselves, they were long nights that I experienced. One night there were very loud sounds, I could assure you that there was a great celebration in the living room of my house. The smell of tobacco permeated my entire room. The only thing I did in my room was pray a lot and wait until dawn.
I preferred to turn around to enter my house and not have to go to his side.
Weeks later the doctors decided to move my father to another city, to receive therapies that according to the criteria of the doctors needed them and improve a little the movements in his body.
My mother had the plane tickets ready and they were at the airport waiting for the flight to leave.
I talked to my mother on the phone and she told me that she was a little scared, worried that she did not want to get on the plane that something was wrong.
In a few minutes I received a call from an aunt who belongs to the Christian church and her words were as follows:
If you want your parents to stay alive, break the image of Santa Bárbara plaster they have in your house. Immediately I cut the phone, I ran, I asked for help from an uncle and we took out the plaster, we broke it and we finished the altar that was in my house.
I remember that day I felt a great relief in my house and in my soul.
My parents arrived safely at their destination. A few days later I started to investigate a bit about this Santa Bárbara legend, I found many stories of many people who said that the person who acquires it must be faithful, that as she grants and listens to your wishes it can also bring many damages to your lifetime.
And that's what happened, my father looking for a family well-being made a decision without thinking that it would affect his life forever. Today belongs to the Christian church, and depends on the help of a cane to walk.
Great story
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