Ok, here it is... the link and the translation. Thank you again for your
help.
I have written this as I imagine it, from my catholic point of view... hope
to step on no toes and to create nothing except tenderness and smiles.
BTW the drawing inserted in the article is by my 16 year old daughter :)
Hugs to all!
https://www.larazon.es/familia/como-fue-el-parto-de-maria-KE21071748
A Christmas concert. Brightly lit choir in a dark auditorium, throats open
and song flows out:
O magnum mysterium,
et admirabile sacramentum,
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,
jacentem in praesepio!
Beata Virgo, cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum.
Alleluia.
I close my eyes and am immersed, soaked, surpassed by the music that fills
all space. O magnum mysterium, o greatest of mysteries, that from atoms
that form cells that form vocal chords inside a human person something so
intense and sublime flows forth, infinitely more than the sum of its
physical parts and yet impossible without them.
And this draws me toward the mystery of the birth of Jesus, so intense and
sublime, infinitely more than the sum of its physical parts and yet
impossible without them.
I envision Mary, *Beata Virgo, *sweat on her brow, eyes closed, walking in
that swinging way of laboring women, holding tight to the goatherd´s wife,
also village midwife, while they circle together around the dark stable. In
the night, Mary´s labored breathing and the rustling of the goats´ hooves
on the straw mingle into a gentle song. The contraction ends, Mary stops,
listens intently. Beyond the door in the small patio, Joseph quietly and
firmly recites the psalm: “Bless the Lord, my soul, O Lord my God, thou art
very great; thou art clothed with honor and majesty. Who cores Himself with
light as with a garment, who stretches out the heavens like a curtain? Who
lays the beams of his chambers in the waters?’ Who makes the clouds his
chariot and walks upon the wings of the wind?”
Another contraction, more walking, more swaying, deep breathing. There is
no physical fear in this daughter of Israel who has witnessed the births of
her cousins, her neighbors, her friends. There is no spiritual fear in ths
Virgin, for virgin is she who has given herself wholly to the Lord, body
and soul, and she trusts. Mary feels her child turn and descend with every
contraction in that ancient dance of sliding toward life. She sits at the
edge of the manger, and the midwife kneels before her, awed by this mother
who has closed eyes, who is lost in the birthing stupor in which she
dreamily hears her husband´s voice, “…from on high You water the hills, and
the earth is filled with the fruit of your labor.”
A deep breath, a strong push, and Mary suddenly opens her eyes. A baby
slides from her body unto the waiting linen on the midwife´s hands. A long
joyful sigh when she sees her son, then a smile, than a laugh *O magnum
mysterium*! Onto the world a new man has been born, greater than the sum of
all his cells, greater than the sum of all the men… and yet so small that
Mary takes him in her arms, she looks at him, smells him, kisses him,
laughs again, throwing her head back with delight, not noticing when the
midwife cuts the cord.
And outside, she hears the smile in Joseph´s voice as he sings “Aleluya!
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is great, because His love is eternal!”
The midwife smiles and also whispers a psalm of thanks, while she helps the
Virgin to lay upon a blanket on the straw. Mary, engrossed, offers her
child the breast, and he searches for it and finds it with sure lips. The
strong suckling frees the placenta, and for a moment the young mother looks
away from her child as the midwife delivers the placenta, nodding. All is
well. The woman covers them together and climbs up the ladder to her home,
to gather the fine salt for the ritual sprinkling of the newborn. From a
quiet corner, her own children lean out to gape at the mystery of birth
that has happened in their home, under their feet.
The stable gate opens shyly and Joseph peeks in. Mary looks up, smile,
invites with eyes that brim with infiniteness. Joseph nears, venerating
with every slow step, hugging from a distance, loving with firm
companionship, offering the humble paternity of his strong hands. And Mary
kisses him with her gaze. They both turn toward the Son that has been born
in Bethlehem for all the world. Mary laughs with joy, and the infant Jesus,
laying on her breast, bounces gently while he feeds.
O magnum mysterium. Merry Christmas.
--
Dra. Carmela Baeza
Médico de Familia, IBCLC
www.centroraices.com
http://www.facebook.com/Consulta.Lactancia.Raices
<http://www.facebook.com/pages/Centro-de-Atenci%C3%B3n-a-la-Familia-Ra%C3%ADces/274415189309122>
Autora de "Amar con los Brazos Abiertos"
http://www.ediciones-encuentro.es/libro/amar-con-los-brazos-abiertos.html
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