By Rosario Ruiz
San Miguel de Allende often stands out from the rest of Mexican cities for the authenticity of its traditions. During Holy Week, we have songs of the Passion of Christ, and during the Christmas season we have carols written by Jose Maria Correa and Genaro Sandi, sung during the posadas. The posadas are reenactments of the journey of Joseph and Mary on a donkey, asking for lodging. The lyrics are unique, and you will only hear them in this city.
The best memories of my childhood are precisely the posadas at my aunts’ house on Sollano Street. I come from a family of musicians and artists, and in the living room of her house, there was a grand piano and a double bass. Every night during the novena—the nine days of posadas—my Aunt Carmen played Correa’s Christmas carols. Uncles and cousins met in that room to pray, while the little ones sat on red benches, listening attentively to the prayers led by my Aunt Lupe. At the end of the rosary, she would “walk the Pilgrims” around the patio. This meant taking out my aunt’s ancient Mystery, with images of the Virgin Mary, Saint Joseph, and a little donkey. The montage sat on a board, ready to be carried by older cousins. The women, with their angelic voice, first sang the litany in Latin, and then the group was divided in two groups—the ones outside sang asking for lodging and the ones on the inside responded.
Outside: “Who will give these poor pilgrims a place to stay—those tired of walking the roads?”
The reply would come from inside: “Who is it that disturbs the peace at night? Get from here, don’t make us lose sleep!”
Outside: “Pious villagers, have mercy. I walk at this bad time out of necessity.”
Indoors: “The Lord knows well that we have pity, but we cannot give lodging to you.”
Outside: “My wife is very young, and she is very tired. By the God of Israel, give me lodging now.”
Indoors: “Who’s asking for it? Give us your names. This sad house is a poor man’s house.”
Outside: “The ones asking are Mary and Joseph, who come wandering from Nazareth.”
Indoors: “Enter then, between songs of glory, the most beautiful Virgin from the East. Let us humbly kiss the footprint that is cleaner than the bright sun. Faithful dove whose placid cooing stirs the glorious Angel. Sweet beacon of infinite light, a thirst for man, a thirst for man. Guidance and protection, guidance and protection.”
Then all the attendees accompanied the Mystery with sparklers and candles, walking around the small patio of the house. It seems that there was always a girl whose hair got singed by the candles. After asking for the posada, we returned to the living room to continue praying.
Once my Aunt Carmen began to play the song “Sad Birds,” it was a sign that the posada had ended. Then my aunts Lupe and Concha came over with red metal trays, giving us a cup of punch, fritters, and our Christmas bonu —a bag of sweets and fruits of the season. We also broke a piñata.
Sad little birds that sing at dawn,
Come join us at this inn.
When the hills shed scarlet,
Covered with silver, with the white snow
When Mary arrived in Jerusalem,
Their sorrows and pain increased as well.
The sheep bleat, the lambs cry,
The sky weeps seeing so much snow.
These glad, contented pilgrims,
Make their dwelling among the sheep.
The snow weaves between the sabino trees,
And holm oaks, forming pavilions.
Oh, what great love, my little Jesus,
Before you are born you already tremble with cold.
Hell trembles, the devil cries,
Because the King of Glory is going to be born.
What happiness, and what fortune to have lived those magical posadas!
