Come to think of it, all of Dolores’ troubles started when her mother took in Zorro Pequeno.
Her mother is-was- a kind woman with a heart as big as the Wilcox Playa. She took in orphans of all tribes, not just those of the Judes. Dolores never wanted for brothers and sisters.
Zorro Pequeno had been a scrawny little thing when the scouts found him on the side of the road. Pale and bony with clothes far too large for him hanging off of his limbs. Bruised and bloodied in such a way that even made her father tear up. Dolores’ mother tended to his wounds and sang to him while she and the other children hid in the doorway only to be chased away by the healer. When the worst of his wounds stabilized and he slept soundly, Madre called them all in to pray for him.
“Oh glorious apostle St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the traitor who delivered thy beloved Master into the hands of His enemies has caused thee to be forgotten by many, but the Church honors and invokes thee universally as the patron of hopeless cases--of things despaired of. Pray for me who am so miserable; make use, I implore thee, of that particular privilege accorded thee of bringing visible and speedy help where help is almost despaired of. Come to my assistance in this great need, that I may receive the consolations and succor of heaven in all my necessities, tribulations and sufferings, particularly the trial of this young boy, whose severe injuries may warrant him passage to the Father’s Kingdom, and that I may bless God with thee and all the elect throughout eternity. I promise thee, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, and I will never cease to honor thee as my special and powerful patron, and to do all in my power to encourage devotion to thee. Amen.”
“Amen,” Dolores and the other children echoed, her eyes never leaving the barely breathing boy. He wasn’t going to make it. Dolores thought that they should pray for redemption of his soul and said so to her mother. Madre smiled sadly and patted her on the head, her fingers curling gently in her dirty hair.
“Never give up hope, Dolores. The Lord works in mysterious ways-sometimes suffering is part of His great plan. But never give up hope that things will work out for the better.”
Aches and Sorrows 1/?
Come to think of it, all of Dolores’ troubles started when her mother took in Zorro Pequeno.
Her mother is-was- a kind woman with a heart as big as the Wilcox Playa. She took in orphans of all tribes, not just those of the Judes. Dolores never wanted for brothers and sisters.
Zorro Pequeno had been a scrawny little thing when the scouts found him on the side of the road. Pale and bony with clothes far too large for him hanging off of his limbs. Bruised and bloodied in such a way that even made her father tear up. Dolores’ mother tended to his wounds and sang to him while she and the other children hid in the doorway only to be chased away by the healer. When the worst of his wounds stabilized and he slept soundly, Madre called them all in to pray for him.
“Oh glorious apostle St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the traitor who delivered thy beloved Master into the hands of His enemies has caused thee to be forgotten by many, but the Church honors and invokes thee universally as the patron of hopeless cases--of things despaired of. Pray for me who am so miserable; make use, I implore thee, of that particular privilege accorded thee of bringing visible and speedy help where help is almost despaired of. Come to my assistance in this great need, that I may receive the consolations and succor of heaven in all my necessities, tribulations and sufferings, particularly the trial of this young boy, whose severe injuries may warrant him passage to the Father’s Kingdom, and that I may bless God with thee and all the elect throughout eternity. I promise thee, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, and I will never cease to honor thee as my special and powerful patron, and to do all in my power to encourage devotion to thee. Amen.”
“Amen,” Dolores and the other children echoed, her eyes never leaving the barely breathing boy. He wasn’t going to make it. Dolores thought that they should pray for redemption of his soul and said so to her mother. Madre smiled sadly and patted her on the head, her fingers curling gently in her dirty hair.
“Never give up hope, Dolores. The Lord works in mysterious ways-sometimes suffering is part of His great plan. But never give up hope that things will work out for the better.”
A few days later, Zorro Pequeno woke up.