* Marquita and Luminitsa

Strolling down the ancha a couple of days ago, a chill ran up my spine.  You know, the kind.  You don't really know what's going on - but get ready - something is!  I kept walking.  Fully aware of my surroundings, present in the moment.  I was hearing voices.   At first I tried to ignore it.  Obviously, I was hearing things.  But no ... there it was again ... my name.  Ever so softly, but totally audible.  "Donnita."  I slowed to a crawl.  My hearing became acute as I did nothing but listen. "Don n i t a ..."

Now, no one has called me Donnita since the days when we traveled to Mexico city on a regular basis.  We had a driver named Antonio whom I shall never forget. To him, I was always Donnita.  He took such good care of us.  We were invited to his daughter's wedding one year, and felt totally part of the family.  Hearing my 'Mexican name' brought back such lovely memories.

I stopped.  I 'tuned in'.  The voices ... yes, two different voices, were coming from the direction of the shop I was standing directly in front of.  I ventured in.  My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light from the bright sun of the street.  It was a nice shop.  My first glance around indicated there was everything Mexico had to offer.  I was amazed as I began to travel toward the sound of the voices.  This building had obviously been an old colonial home.  I passed through room after room, deeper and deeper away from the street, through the courtyard and into yet another part of the building.  The voices became louder and clearer.  They were gentle but firm voices.  Determination was imprinted in the sound waves.  I followed.  Past the pottery, ceramics, hand painted folk art, hand punched tin mirrors, cantera carvings, a room full of lanterns and chandeliers until I was finally 'there'.  There in front of a hand woven basket.  The sound of my name was definitely drifting gently out of the depths of the basket.

I peered in.  Simple rag dolls of all shapes and sizes tumbled over the sides.  What on earth .... I was intrigued and mystified.  I didn't question the magic.  Things like this seem to happen to me on a regular basis.  I moved a few dolls.  Primitively crafted with a tremendous amount of character.  Then I came to the voices.  There they were!  I picked them both up, looking them square in the eyes.

"Well, Senora Donnita, it's about time.  We've been waiting!", one of them piped up.

"Yesterday, we were nearly taken.", the other cried.  "Where have you been?  "Do you realize we would have been separated, and gone to the entirely wrong person?"

"I'm here now, you are safe."  I turned, walking back toward the dim light at the front of the building.  "You can explain when we get home."

"My name is Marquita.  It's a very Mexican name you know.  It means pearl.  Are you listening to me, Donnita?"

"Yes, of course I am.  Perhaps you two should button your lips until I get your paperwork in order to get you out of here."

"But, you should know my name too!  They just would not be quiet.  I was getting nervous.  "It's Luminitsa.   I'm pure gypsy."

"OK, OK, that's enough for now you two.  Settle down."

I set them on the counter and dug my purse out of my Lady of Guadalupe shopping bag.  Senor at the counter was looking at me oddly.   Like he had perhaps overheard, but didn't want to admit it.  I smiled.  He wrapped each one in brightly coloured tissue paper.  I placed them gently in my bolsa and walked into the bright Mexican sun.  I'm sure their story will unfold. 

Marquita and Luminitsa

"Friends are angels sent down to earth to make good days and help us find our way."