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Chronicle 1: The Orishas, ​​a sacred inheritance is not abandoned

orishas sacred inheritance

Chronicles of the XNUMXst century

They say that in their origins the Orishas were living beings, and after death they were given the title of saint for the life they knew how to lead on earth. Myth or reality? The truth is that for a long time they have accompaniedañaendowed men and women, protecting them from all evil and granting, according to the faith of each one, spiritual and material goods.

This link with humans has generated endless fantastic anecdotes, worth telling because the miracles and curses that accompanyañano tamañas experiences, like fables, contain a useful life lesson.

These are some daily stories that intertwine both worlds, here are the Orishas chronicles of the XNUMXst century.

The Orishas protect the path of those who care for and respect them.

When Raquel's mother died, the twenty-three-year-old did not want to accept that reality, although she knew that death would be the irremediable end after a long illness, she always hoped to have her one more day to enjoy that woman whom she considered the great love of his life. For this reason, from the moment she left the cemetery, she dedicated herself to mourning her and cursing everything that reminded her of her loss.

He distanced himself from the family, also from the neighbors, he even blocked all his social networks trying to make himself invisible, but the pain was still buried in his soul like a deep root.

Anguished to infinity, she made a drastic decision:

__ You are crazy? __, said Juan Luis, the only friend who didn't even registerañateeth left her alone, but the decision could not be reversed.

In less than a week, and without any remorse, the exchange was carried out. It was not until after midnight, in the solitude of her new home, when she resignedly realized that the small room for which she had exchanged the house where she had always lived , I did not have enough space for so many pieces of furniture:

__ In any case, they reminded me of it…__, I thought with relief as I distributed them to everyone who passed by to greet the new neighbor, there was only one detail left: __ The Orishas drawer…__

Although she always respected her mother's customs, she was never exactly a lover of the Yoruba religion, especially when, according to her, they were not able to protect her against cancer.

But a piece of furniture loaded with invisible warriors is neither attractive nor does it find a buyer, so what to do?

__ The pantry room. __, what a way of naming a rotten, roofless wooden shed, taking up space in the backyard.

The days went by, and while the box of the Orishas lived under the sun, the rain and the serene in that secluded place, the young woman suffered an uncontrollable depression to the point of getting sick. She didn't eat, she could barely sleep, and worst of all, the memory of her mother followed her disturbing pace, attacking her conscience that didn't stop blaming her.

__ I could have done more for her…__, she said to herself trapped between insomnia and endless nights. Precisely, in one of those early mornings she began to hear strange noises coming from the room.

__ But no one lives there, only…__ The idea suddenly happened, bringing the image of the mother attending to the sacred drawer.

__ “Take care of your ancestors and they will take care of you.” __

The noises did not stop, on the contrary, they were more intense and persistent, increasing her anxiety along with the fevers, taking her to such a state of hallucination that she not only saw herself happily sharing with her beloved parent, but also absorbing the forgotten religious teachings in the subconscious:

__ “Take care of your ancestors and they will take care of you…”__

Again, the phrase in the maternal voice before losing consciousness.

The sunlight made her wake up, the windows of the room were all open, then she saw him coming towards her, it was Juan Luis bringing a bowl full of broth. Little by little, the young man made him drink it, the fevers had subsided, but in his memory the strange event was clear:

__ But in that room there is no one. __, said the young man trying to calm her down to no avail, only when he promised to stay to discover the cause of that phenomenon, did he manage to make her sleep.

At night, the noises in the room were present, astonished, Juan Luis approached to catch the intruder, abruptly opened the dilapidated door and...

Impatience did not let Raquel wait in the house, she went out to the patio and finding the young man with the criminal in his hands, she smiled with relief. It was a jutía. In an instinctive reaction, the little animal managed to slip away from Juan Luis, running up to climb the carob tree that adorned the patio.

Once the mystery was solved, Raquel read between the lines of the mystical message, approached Juan and made a request:

__ Please, could you bring the box of the Orishas home? __. She knew what she had to do and that was the first step.

As soon as the day cleared up, he looked for everything he needed to welcome the ancestors once again. Time saw her growing stronger and healthier, by her side Juan Luis, now more than a friend, and in the distance, the memory of her mother, no longer anguished or sorrowful, contemplating the future of her daughter. of her fully happy of her.

«The Orishas protect the path of those who care for and respect them»

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