Battling winters of life with "duende" in Eastertime

                                                       

"The woman left her water jar at the feet of Jesus and went proclaiming his name ..." John 4.

   Another wonderful snow-storm day in April! The excess 'white stuff' reminded me of a friend whom I once gingerly told: "I think you have on too much make-up!" To which she replied: "Do you think I should take off some?"  "No!" I answered, "you should add some more!" We laughed together. Her laughter could light up any drab day. When she died suddenly a few weeks after this incident; I recalled the story of the Samaritan woman at the well in her honor.

   My friend Debbie loved my dramatic interpretation. She fancied herself as that alluring Samaritan who caught Jesus' attention. She too had battled her own winters of life. We are told the Samaritan had come to collect water at the well. Charmed by his looks, his attention, the smell of his sweat, worn out by the heat of the sun, now suddenly, the quench of her thirst for truth satisfied, she left her water jar at his feet. She, then, ran into her village announcing she had received great good news of the meaning and purpose of life! She met her savior!

   Debbie's spontaneity was similar, filled with 'savoir vivre'. She knew how to live and enjoyed life, becoming an evangelizer of enthusiasm that can only come from God. Saddened by much hurt and disappointment but equally, refused to be determined by such; her light was never dim. The Spanish have a word for such people: "duende". It means "a raw, tempestuous energy, a vulnerability to inspiration, an original, a contempt for neat, tidy categories!" Men and women who have "duende" can light up any room. They come into your midst and you notice them immediately. Contemporaries of the great saint Teresa of Avila described her in this manner. She had "spunk" or to use another American expression, "she got fire beneath her butt!" I would like to believe this is what Jesus saw in the Samaritan woman and hopefully, many of us know such persons in our lives. We are always touched by the love with which such persons do things.

   In the words of St. Teresa: "The Lord does not look so much at the magnitude of anything we do as at the love with which we do it!" And that was the Samaritan woman and that was Debby, my friend! She did things small and great with great love, with "duende".                      (c) Don Ronaldo.