I found an interesting article on the front page of the local newspaper. A statue of the Virgin Mary at a church just outside of Sacramento appeared to have bled a single tear. As a result hundreds of people had apparently begun flocking to the statue to get a glimpse of the holy phenomenon. According to the article people had even been camping out beneath the statue, refusing to leave, sure that another sign from God was on its way. Now, I had read about this kind of thing before. I once read an article about a woman who swore Jesus' face had been burned into a piece of toast, but I had never heard of such a thing happening so close to my home. Therefore I found it my obligation as both a nosey bystander and a tourist of sorts to go have a look for myself.
The church was located about fifty miles away from my hometown and I had a feeling my directions may have been faulty so I was a little concerned that I might get lost trying to find the Virgin. But when I reached the vicinity of the church I realized that I couldn't have missed it if I had tried. The whole two-lane country road was jammed with fanatic soul seekers trying to get a glimpse of God. There were even police officers on hand to help direct the traffic. It was a mob scene. I parked down the road a ways, in order to avoid sitting in the traffic and then proceeded to hike in to the madness.
Sure enough, as I approached the statue of the Virgin Mary I too noticed a single blood red tear dripping down her left cheek. My first impression was that the tear actually seemed to suit her well seeing as she had such a depressed look on her face. She stood on a pedestal well above the crowd holding a cross in one hand. Now, why the mother of Christ would be holding an object symbolizing the gruesome death of her only son boggles me a bit but I try not to question these things, a task that would become more difficult in the proceeding moments.
There were people everywhere preying and crying. Some were blabbering all kinds of crazy languages and speaking in tongues. Some of the pilgrims had left offerings in the form of letters, candles and flowers. There were even wheelchairs and crutches that had been left by crippled onlookers who had apparently been cured of their ailments by the depressed virgin.
What struck me though was the amount of faith that these people had. I mean, these people honestly believed that this slab of cement in the shape of the Virgin Mary had cried blood? First of all, if this particular slab of concrete did harbor the soul of Jesus' mom, why would she cry blood instead of just a regular tear? Who cries blood? Sounds like some sort of weird disorder. Seems a little grotesque unless it was not a tear at all but that her eye had actually been wounded. If that was the case maybe someone should have brought her a band-aid. And why just a single tear? If she was so damn sad why not just bawl away? And if she was really trying to give these people some sort of sign why not just get right up off of her pedestal, come down and embrace all of her loyal followers who had journey from far and wide to come see her? Surely she could at least say something! But no, she just stood there with the same blank stare on her face, a single bloody tear staining her cheek.
The weird thing was that I found myself a bit envious of all these people bowing to this particular slab of concrete. This whole bleeding Mary thing just seemed to further solidify these people's beliefs. Now they had seen it with their own eyes! Never again would they have a doubt. I mean they were really getting something out of this experience and I was just standing there amazed that such a large group of people could fall for such a prank. I hate to sound pessimistic or closed minded but am I the only one who realizes how easy it would be for some trickster to climb up to the statue and put the bloody tear on the poor virgins face?
A month or two later I happened to drive by the church and found that the statue had been removed. The Catholic Church probably came and picked her up so that she could undergo some experiments to validify the bloody tear. She had probably been shipped off to some underground lab. Or maybe she finally decided that one measly little tear didn't do it for her any more, climbed down and just walked away. Either way, the crowd was gone and there was nothing left but an empty pedestal where the ill-tempered Mary had once stood. It was at that point that I decided it was my deed as a good semaratin to grant more people with a gift of unwavering faith. Anything I could do to help these people out.
So, when I got back home that day I went to the butcher shop and bought some pigs blood. Then I proceeded down to the Catholic Church by my house, which also accommodates a statue of the Virgin Mary. When I got to the church I dripped a single bloody tear from her left eye and then left feeling a sense of accomplishment because I myself had carried out a sacred deed. People would flock to the statue and have their faith rekindled by this single drip of pig's blood. The crippled would come and be cured. It was the least I could do to help more people strengthen their faith in God.
I slept well that night, feeling proud until the next day when I awoke and rushed to find the local newspaper where the headline read, "Trickster plays sick joke, vandalizes the Virgin with pigs blood." Was I missing something?
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