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I was born in Managua,
Nicaragua on the 28th of December 1964. I am the first child of my
parent’s five children. The second child died before he was born.
After him came my two sisters, Gioconda and Maria Gabriela, and
lastly, my youngest brother- Fabio.
I was told that since I was a baby I was taken care of by my
maternal grandmother- Ana, or as I nicknamed her- Mamana; now
everyone calls her by this name. Mamana and my aunt Francisca (may
she rest in peace) or “Panchita,” as we affectionately called her,
were God’s instruments in my personal and, I might add, in my
vocational formation.
From the time I was a baby until I was five years old, I lived the
greatest part of the time with the two of them on the farm; it was
my “paradise on earth.” By worldly standards the farm was poor, but
in the lessons, care and love, my sisters and I received -it was
very rich. My entertainment was playing in the fields looking for
oranges and mandarins; I played with the chickens and with the
parrot -teaching it to say the prayers Mamana and Panchita taught me
as a little girl.
When I was five years old I entered school; it was heartbreaking for
me, since I had to separate myself from my grandmother. But
eventually my grandmother moved to Managua so that I could go to
school peacefully and we were still able to go to the farm on the
weekends where my paradise awaited me. Since I was child, my life on
the farm next to the poor and simple people taught me to be
satisfied with whatever I had. I had no preferences or inclinations
for special toys. It was the same for me to play with a can and a
stick- which I used as a drum, or to play with a Barbie my parents
brought me from the United States. I remember on one occasion we
were asked whether we wanted to go on vacation to Disney World or
Panama. I chose the farm. We ended up going to Disney, where I also
had a great time since I easily adapted to everything.
I would like to share something very significant that happened in my
life. On a Saturday in 1971 while we were going out to the farm, we
had a very tragic automobile accident. It had been raining very hard
and a car suddenly made a U-turn in the middle of the road and
crashed against us. Three men from the car that hit us died
instantaneously. The fourth passenger in their car was sent to a
psychiatric hospital for the rest of his life, due to the impact. In
our car the woman who took care of me, when she realized I was going
to go flying through the front windshield, held me in her arms and
took the impact in my place. As she guarded me in her bosom, she
smashed against the glass and died instantly. When I realized that
someone had given their life for me, I understood that God had a
particular election on my life.
After this event- everything changed for me. Although I was only
seven years old, I could no longer look at my life as something
casual, I realized that God had a special plan for me, a plan that
in time I would come to discover. After the accident, my life also
changed externally. I could not spend much time with my mother,
since I was overwhelmed at seeing her stretched out immobile on a
sick-bed, and my father had to work a lot. Thank God I had Mamana
who had moved to Managua to be with me and my three sisters.
During my weekend visits to the farm, I started receiving Catechism
classes in preparation for my First Communion. I applied myself and
enjoyed the classes. When it was time for me to receive my First
Communion, at eight years old, I asked my parents if I could
celebrate it in the Parish Church in Belen- the little town in Rivas
where our farm is located. I asked if they could invite all the farm
workers’ children and my cousins. They finally agreed and gave me a
breakfast with all the children of the town -which I thoroughly
enjoyed. Days later, we had a party where they invited all their
friends and our family members. The only thing I can actually
remember about this special day was that my mother, for the first
time in a year-and-a-half, was able to get up from her wheel chair
and take her first steps. It was the happiest day of my life.
While I attended the Theresian School, I began to develop a great
love for my school. I had good professors, very good friends and I
loved the religious sisters. My favorite subjects were religion and
sports. I spent my days in school and my afternoons joyfully with my
younger sisters. I have always dearly loved my sisters and I always
loved playing with them. Every day we left home early for school and
I would not return home until almost 5:00 pm. I participated in many
after-school activities such as: the “MTA” group for spiritual
growth, all kinds of sports practices- since I was involved in all
of them, or I went to work in one of the poor neighborhoods where
the religious sisters had schools for children who came from
low-income homes.
I loved seeing and being with the religious sisters. When I was in
my third year of high school a religious sister, within the first
five years of her first profession, came to our school. I got very
close to her because I admired her. I would say to myself, “When I
get older I want to be like her.” This is how I first began to
discover my vocation…. I desired being at school and getting
involved in all the different activities. Unfortunately, political
difficulties plagued my country until eventually war broke out in
1980; at that time my entire family left Nicaragua and headed to
Miami.
This new stage in my life was very difficult for me. I did not want
to live outside Nicaragua. That is when I called the religious
provincial on the telephone and asked to be admitted to her
Congregation. She told me I was too young and that I should first go
to the university for a while and live outside the school
environment so that my vocation could mature. At that time I was not
able to understand what was being asked of me, so I felt very
rejected.
In 1981 I providentially returned to Nicaragua and my school-mates
who where in their last year of high school, where getting ready to
go on retreat. It was a “pilot retreat” being tried out first on
them, and later it would be taken to other schools. They invited me
to attend and thank God I did. It was there that I received what we
call in the Charismatic Renewal, the “baptism in the Holy Spirit.” I
received the gift of tongues and much encouragement to return back
to Miami to continue my life with the Lord.
When I arrived back in Miami I looked for various individuals who
had been recommended to me so that I would have some kind of support
system. A married couple began to help me tremendously. I still I
remember them with great love in my daily prayers. Later on, I
attended another group and asked if I could join them. They told me
I could not since they had just begun forming the group. This was
the second time I felt rejection in a religious environment. Other
than that married couple, I was left without a support group. And
although the couple was very solicitous towards me, I felt I could
not be bothering them all the time since they were quite busy with
their own children and personal situations; I only looked for them
every once in a while.
In spite of my loneliness, I tried to walk firmly in this new life.
I began working at a chain of jewelry stores and became very
successful. I worked hard, almost 80 hours a week. Eventually, at
the age of 19 I became the supervisor of all the company’s stores in
Miami, Tennessee and Ohio. Unfortunately, in the midst of this work
environment, I started getting together with a group of friends who
did not care for the spiritual life. I allowed myself be taken in by
the world, to the point that I even stopped attending Sunday Mass. I
lost the grace that God had given me.
In the midst of this I met a young guy whom I started dating. Every
day my faith began to weaken more and more. Fortunately, at this
time one of the leaders of the retreat I had attended in 1981 came
to visit Miami and I had the blessing of getting together with her.
I shared with her how I was and what I was doing. Our time together
allowed me to realize the craziness of my life. In one sentence it
became clear. She said: “Ana Margarita, you know that if you
continue like this you will be building your eternal damnation.”
When she finished her sentence, I stood up and said, “Let’s go….”
She got scared and said, “Where?” I said: “to go to confession…
since I do not want to live far away from the Lord.” That is how I
returned to the life of grace. As a result of this conversation, I
left my boyfriend, I left that group of friends, I stopped going out
at night to the discotheques and I stopped working so many hours.
Unfortunately, one day, these friends called me to go out. I went
out with them and met my old boyfriend; once again I began my old
routine. The following week- I remember it was a Sunday, I decided I
was not going to Mass; instead, I was going out on a boat. As I was
walking around my house making preparations for the day, I twisted
my foot and broke my tibia in three parts. Instead of going to the
beach, however, I ended up in the emergency room at South Miami
Hospital. I ended up in a cast for four months.
During this time I realized I had misused all the freedom the Lord
had given me. So I returned to the sacrament of confession. As I
left confession I promised the Lord I would receive Him in the
Eucharist every day of my life as reparation for all the times I did
not go to Mass on Sundays. Since July of 1985, every day I have kept
my promise.
After some time, I called a religious I knew and asked her to help
me find a group and to guide me with my life. Curiously, she told
me: “You have a lot of good wood to work with, but we are not able
to carve it. I will introduce you to a priest that perhaps can help
you.” This is how I met Father Jordi; he in turn sent me to meet,
the one who is now- Madre Adela. From the first moment I met her, I
knew I should live out my vocation next to her. By God’s grace I am
one of the first four sisters that followed “Mother” (as we
endearingly call her) since the beginning of the Foundation. I’ve
already shared more than 20 years with her and my sisters.
I can say that through the years I have been able to discover the
hand of God in all the circumstances and experiences of my life. It
was He who called me, and it was He who brought me to Himself. I am
a happy religious and I always keep before me the words of St. Paul:
“We hold this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the
transcendent power belongs to God and not to us.” (2 Cor. 4:7).
“All
for the Heart of Jesus through the heart of Mary.”
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