From A Single
Cotillon Of Castilian Girls You Can Construct The Whole History Of Our
Lady; Conception, Annunciation, Sorrows, Solitude, Assumption.
As young
ladies are never called by their family names, but always by their
baptismal appellations, you cannot pass an evening in a Spanish
tertulia without being reminded of every stage in the life of the
Immaculate Mother, from Bethlehem to Calvary and beyond.
The common use of sacred words is universal in Catholic countries, but
nowhere so striking as in Spain. There is a little solemnity in the
French adieu. But the Spaniard says adios instead of "good-morning." No
letter closes without the prayer, "God guard your Grace many years!"
They say a judge announces to a murderer his sentence of death with the
sacramental wish of length of days. There is something a little shocking
to a Yankee mind in the label of Lachryma Christi; but in La Mancha they
call fritters the Grace of God.
The piety of the Spanish women does not prevent them from seeing some
things clearly enough with their bright eyes. One of the most bigoted
women in Spain recently said: "I hesitate to let my child go to
confession. The priests ask young girls such infamous questions, that my
cheeks burn when I think of them, after all these years." I stood one
Christmas Eve in the cold midnight wind, waiting for the church doors to
open for the night mass, the famous misa del gallo. On the steps
beside me sat a decent old woman with her two daughters.
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