Milagros are scattered all over my desk this morning. I ordered a bag of them not too long ago from Etsy. Five dollars and two bits for fifty medals of varying internal organs and symbols in antiqued silver. Milagros are little medals made of copper or silver or gold, even, that are like little symbols of your prayer. You pin them, or leave them on altars, in shrines, on statues of saints, as an offering or reminder of your prayer. I love the imagery of them, the idea of milagros, which literally translates to miracles. Last night, I searched through them frantically, after my mother called to tell me my cousin's eight month old son was being transferred from his local small town hospital to the larger children's hospital where my husband works. I felt so desperately helpless. I talked to my husband in the hospital, and my mother at home. I wanted something to do. I cling to ritual in my most helpless times. The repetition soothes me. The baby is doing well, now. He is waiting today on a battery of tests to show why he was suddenly so sick and now again, so well.
Today, I am over at Glow in the Woods, talking about milagros.