Yesterday brought a little revelation, I think. It was Dia de Los Muertos. Here in San Miguel de Allende, the holiday is celebrated with parades and parties and visits to cemeteries carpeted with marigolds. Colorful ofrendas — altars that connect us to the dead — decorate plazas, churches, streets, and almost every home.
Usually, I would be out with the crowds for the fun. This year, I wanted to celebrate in a way that would help me deal with the undercurrent of anxiety I am feeling about the world, so I invited friends to create an ofrenda of peace at a dinner gathering.
I wanted to make the whole day special, so I recruited my friend Israel to deliver a carload of cempisuchil (marigolds) and string twinkly lights in the patio. My adorable neighbors, Leo and Chucho, decorated the patio with dozens of candles and helped set up the ofrenda.
And then I made a collage about peace.
As the sun was setting, a dozen friends showed up with food and contributions for the ofrenda. We ate and shared stories about our contributions.
Sibyl sang a beautiful song. Then Catherine and Mark read beautiful poems. One of my favorite lines was from Judyth Hill’s poem, “It’s on Us:” Today we cry out for peace, to the Source of All Light, to all who will listen, all who will hear — let them hear!
Carole shared a photo of herself at a 1969 peace march to protest the Viet Nam war.
Luisa showed us the tiny dolls her parents brought her from their travels, connecting Luisa as a child to people everywhere. Jan explained that her broken lock represented freedom.
I shared the story in Judaism called “Lamed Vav” or Thirty Six, retold in a booklet about San Miguel artist, Peter Leventhal. “In this world at all times, live thirty-six righteous people. They do not know they are thus anointed. They carry no distinguishing mark. They assure God that mankind deserves to survive.”
Our conversation was interrupted when Chucho ran into the house and waved at me to come out to the patio. There, Leo was beating the ofrenda with a towel to put out a fire. When the fire was out, the grownups gave the boys a big round of applause and surveyed the damage. Minor.
Maybe because the evening was so full of reflection and metaphor, the fire seemed to provide special messages, one relating to the two objects that were burned. Peter Leventhal’s brochure lost a corner but the story of the Thirty Six was undamaged. A beautiful angel painted by neighbor Bill was burned in the middle, but her wings and halo survived.
The fire was scary but it brought more light. It made me think about what endures when we fight the fire. It made me wonder what would happen if each of us assumed we were one of the angelic members of The Thirty Six.
In a few weeks, Mexico will celebrate Dia de la Revolucion. More food for thought.
We didn’t start the fire
It was always burning, since the world’s been turning — from a song by Billy Joel
Camino Milagro 
Kim…I loved your description of the night, it’s relevance and it’s meaning for all there. Thank you for arranging such a peaceful night for us all. Not even a small fire could mar the event!
Thanks for being there. It was special
Beautiful narrative of your memorable gathering. I particularly liked the pics and among others was moved by the photo of your friend Carole at the Wash DC peace March back in ‘69. Maybe our paths crossed? And the fire? Makes one wonder about the synchronicity of The Universe.
Yep!
We can wish, but it doesn’t look too good. Thank you for a moment of calm in this chaos.
Agree…I’m having some sleepless nights.
me too ❤️
No, we didn’t light it, but we tried to fight it..Thank you for this good fight and honoring the lives of all who have been lost in the crossfire. xo
Thanks Laura for teaching so many of us (including thousands of teenagers) how to combine the fight with a big dose of love and humor.
A wonderful idea to turn the day’s festivities into an ofrenda of peace with such a calm and beautiful setting! The fire was unexpected and scary, but offers so many lessons for this moment in time. “We didn’t start the fire,” as Billy Joel notes, but if we don’t work at putting out each fire as best we can, we will all be consumed.
Thanks Rosaliene!
Your evening reminds me of the saying “Let there be peace, and let it begin with me.” Sounds like you are on the right track.
Thanks Toni, for an evening at least we were on the right track.
Simply beaut, Kim, and a much-needed antidote to the horror La around us right now. What a perfect encapsulation of existence: some social gatherings, some ceremony, a bit of remembrance, and collective action (fire-fighting) for the common good. I salute your life, hermana…
Thank you Fred. It was inspiring — I just wish we could export our hope and love….
May all Beings know Peace. Xo
Indeed. Thinking of you Sarah….
Hi Kim,
Sleepless nights here too.
I look at my husband, sons and grandchildren and realize they might not have existed because someone thought it was a good idea to kill their neighbors in Armenia…and the world watched……
Indeed…and you have surely heard that 100,000 Armenians were just expelled from Nagorno Krabakh as the world was silent. Big hugs to you all.