stock photo from Nat Geo |
I was really struck by the sight of women in skirts and head scarfs crawling forward, knees scraped and bleeding, in some cases, silently crying. Here I was, a tourist, interfering with their private pain, or glory...I'm not sure which. I've often wondered what inspires that kind of faith. I don't really believe the story of the Virgin of Guadalupe--likely it was manufactured to herd the local natives into the Catholic church, but I wonder what switches on in someone's brain to have that kind of faith in something or someone? I wonder if there is anything or anyone I would crawl across a stone courtyard, bleeding and crying for? Does wisdom and experience make us immune to that kind of faith---be it religious or personal?
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