MOTHER OFFICIATES AT FUNERAL

My mother and I trudged on.  The path led to a rocky trail up the mountain behind our house.

  The rugged mountain loomed ahead.  The trail was steep, well established.  It was a hard long hike.  It was a strenuous task keeping up with my mother.  The rocky trail led through a forest of pines as we gained altitude.  It offered an enjoyable walk of solitude by frequent rests.
It was an exceptionally scenic place to take a walking trip.

Up the trail we trudged, a combination of wild vegetation and perennial tropical forest. As I clambered over larger rocks, periodically I would be presented with a glorious view.  It was quiet and extremely remote.  The view of the forest draped valley below was more like a botany exposition.  The magnificent landscape was worth the admiration.  Pockets of wild orchids clung to their hosts, tree or rocky cliffs.  Evergreen plants and ferns lined the path.

Reaching the summit was the small hamlet of Tlapacholoyan nestled at the top, 5,000 ft. where we would be staying.
Our hosts, Don Amando and his wife Pascuala owned the only country store in  town which included their home.  Clumps of lemon grass with their very sharp blades grew along side the entrance.
They welcomed us gladly but with sadness.
The little daughter they had prayed for had just been taken away from them.  This tested their faith as they were the first believers in that village.
The family had asked my mother to come for the service, wake and burial as my father and all the other Christian workers in the area had gone to the annual conference.
This was a new experience for my mother as well as myself.
After a hot dinner of chicken with rice, tortillas, and beans, and lemon grass tea, my mother conducted the service for close family and friends in the home.
As tradition dictated they stayed awake through out the night.
Little Sarah’s body lay lifeless on the table surrounded by flowers.

As the evening shadows approached, the  effect of the kerosene lamps gave a calming ambience sober effect.  The flickering cast an eerie shadow on the form laying on the table as I observed from the long hard wooden bench across the room. I dozed on and off through out the night.

Don Amando and Pascuala

The next morning she was laid in a special made “box” and laid to rest on a site on the property as the local village fathers would not allow for Christians in the local cemetery.
This experience was my first encounter with death and my mother's first and only time officiating at a funeral and a Velorio (Wake)