Danza del Milagro

A long time ago just outside a little town in Mexico lived a girl named Carmen. She was a pretty girl, with small, dainty feet, and she loved dancing. Unfortunately for her, her family were peasant farmers who grew the food for the local monastery. Her parents told her that God would bless them for their labors, but year after year as they approached the Spring Fiesta, her parents would tell her that they could not afford to buy her the fancy dress and satin slippers she would need to dance with the other girls. Besides, they told her, dancing was a waste of time for a farmer's daughter-when she was done with her work she ought to be in the church, praying.

In the summer after she turned fifteen, she began feeling anxious. Nearly all the town girls her age were already married, married to young men who had fallen in love with them as they danced so beautifully at the fiesta. She knew that she must be able to dance the next year, or she would have to go join a convent and be alone forever. She knew that her parents were doing all they could to farm the land they owned, and couldn't possibly spare the money for her dress. They needed her help, so she couldn't try to get a job in town. She looked around for months, trying to find something she could sell, some work that she could do. Finally, as winter approached, she was near giving up. So early one morning, while it was still dark, she slipped into the chapel, lit a candle, and began to pray. She poured out her heart, asking for a chance, asking for money, asking for the dress and shoes to just appear, as in a miracle. Finding nothing left to say, she opened her eyes and looked around. She saw no miracle, and went home in tears.

However, just because she didn't see a miracle didn't mean that none was there. For that morning, she had not been alone in the chapel. A young monk originally from her town had been taking his turn sweeping the chapel that morning, and heard her prayers. This would not have been very useful on its own, but this monk was special. He was the younger son of the recently dead tailor, with a sister just Carmen's size. He thought a long time as he swept and eventually decided that he could be Carmen's miracle, that he could take the little money he had hidden away and sew her the dress and slippers she needed. He purchased cloth from traveling merchants and worked on it all the hours he could slip away.

Winter came and slowly left. Carmen's steps grew heavy, her eyes dark. There was no way she could get the dress now. Even if she could earn money, there was not enough time left to find the goods and sew them together. The night before the Fiesta, Carmen cried herself to sleep. There was no dress, she could not dance, she would not be where the boys could fall in love with her, she would be alone forever. But little did she know, as she fell asleep the young monk was sneaking out of the monastery, carrying his gift. He pushed the dress through her window and placed the satin slippers on the sill, and silently crept back to his room and his bed.

The next morning, Carmen woke up slowly. Her eyes darted to the window, and what was there but the most beautiful dress she had ever seen, and a delicate pair of satin slippers to match it. She grabbed it in shock. "Papa, papa, where did it come from?" she cried. "Where did what come from?" he growled back. "The dress, the dress, oh, Mama, Papa, thank you!" She ran over to where they were sleeping. "Thank you so much!" But they told her that they did not do it, that they had been sorry but they could not afford the dress. "It must be my miracle, Papa!" "Even miracles need some help, Carmen. If you do not put that dress on and leave now, you will miss the dancing, and then it will be no good to you." So she quickly dressed and hurried from the house, leaping and twirling and feeling the lovely fabric around her.

It did not take her long to reach the center of town, where the other girls were gathered. She started feeling unsure of herself. Though her dress was as well-made as any worn by the other girls, she was not sure where to go. The butcher's daughter directed her to an empty spot in the middle of the group. And then, as soon as she had gotten to it, the music started. The other girls all started dancing. Carmen started dancing as well, but a feeling of dread soon hit her. She did not know the dance. The other girls leapt and twisted, twirled and flipped, all together as one. Carmen could not follow. She tried her best to keep up, but eventually found herself being pushed further and further to the outside of the whirl of skirts and abruptly knocked to the ground.

She was about to start crying again when she felt two hands take hers and lift her up. She was staring into the eyes of a handsome young man. "Where did you get that lovely dress?" he asked. "For I know of only one man in the country who could make dresses so fine as that, and even he could not have fitted it to you so well." "I do not know, señor," she replied, and told him the story of the miracle. As soon as she told him of her prayer, he understood what had happened. For he was the village tailor, and his father was the only man who had made dresses so well. Only one with his father's training, and God guiding his hands, could make a dress so fine without a single fitting. And if his brother saw fit to start this miracle, it was up to him to finish it off. "That is indeed a miracle, señorita. And only the most graceful dancer in the town would be worthy of such a gift." She did not believe the compliment, but thanked him anyway. He continued saying sweet things to her as he walked her back out of town to her home. Within a few weeks, they were married, and preformed miracles for each other to the end of their days.