Desert Missionary by Nicole Gregory

Author:Nicole Gregory
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mentoris Project

Three small brown faces, barely containing their laughter, stared at Eusebio up close. As he opened his eyes, a little boy and girl burst into giggles, hopping happily around him. Eusebio and his companions had slept on the ground under the trees. Now, as they sat up, they noticed a crowd of Pima people curiously watching their every move. It was obvious that many of them had slept on the ground close by the Jesuits the night before. A teenage boy with a bright smile stepped forward and offered the priests a large clay jug filled with water. The men drank from it gratefully, then washed their faces.

“What is your name?” Eusebio asked the boy. Through much effort at interpretation, he learned it was Se-eh-ha. “Thank you for the water, Se-eh-ha.”

Eusebio pulled a cross from his bag, then a small painted icon of the face of Jesus, and placed the items against a tree trunk. He and Aguilar knelt before them and began to say mass.

A whisper of excitement flew through the small crowd of onlookers. When they finished, the two padres rose and took food from their packs for breakfast. Several young boys ran off and returned with a watermelon, which they broke open with a rock. Handing the pieces to the Jesuits, they watched in delight as Eusebio and his friends ate hungrily.

“Today, we will determine the exact location for the chapel,” Eusebio said to Aguilar, “then find men who can help build it.”

“Padre, these people look up to us as if we are kings! We could ask them to do whatever we want.”

Eusebio shook his head. “We must be careful about ordering them to do anything. We need to get to know them, sit with them, eat with them, learn their traditions. And if they do any task for us, we pay them. True conversion requires patience, tolerance, and kindness—to create a bond of trust, just as God has done with us. We could baptize everyone living in this settlement. What a treasure we have in this place!”

Aguilar smiled in admiration. He’d never known a priest to be so compassionate and determined at the same time.

A sudden commotion made the two turn around. A group of three Spanish ladies dressed in formal black dresses had just arrived in a rickety horse-drawn cart.

“Padre! Padre!” One woman nearly fell out of the cart as she called to Eusebio and Aguilar. She explained they were wives of ranch owners nearby.

“What a surprise and an honor. What brings you here, señora?” Eusebio asked.

“Padre, Holy Week begins in two days. Now that you are here, we must prepare for the procession of the Blessed Sacrament!” the oldest of the women said urgently. “The children here, well—even if you haven’t baptized all of them yet, we must get them ready. We have costumes and necklaces for them, and I am sure you have some too.”

“Of course,” Eusebio said, looking at her with astonishment. He wanted to laugh, but he recognized these Christian women were dead serious.

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