My grandfather, whom I lovingly called Abuelo, had a quiet devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Few in our family knew of this. As the story goes, one day when I was visiting my grandparents, probably around the year 2001, my grandmother mentioned that my grandfather had planned to donate a statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe to their church parish, St. Pius X in New Orleans. Curious, I asked her why because this was something out of the ordinary for him. She told me he had not explained his reasoning but only said that it was something that he himself needed to know. In fact, that afternoon, they had planned to go together to choose the statue he would donate to the church.
Because it was unlike him to keep anything from others, especially his wife, I decided to ask him myself. I approached him and said, “Abuelo, I heard you are buying a statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe today and donating it to the church. May I ask why?” I asked gently, out of love and curiosity. He simply smiled and replied, “It is something only I will know.”
After that, I did not press the matter. I sensed it was something he wished to keep private and hold quietly in the stillness of his heart. Years later, shortly before he died in Oct. 2021, I casually shared the story with his son, my father and his daughter, my aunt. Neither had heard the story, and until that moment, I had never spoken of it myself. I even mentioned it to my grandfather near the end of his life, but by then he was far gone, and I knew it was not the time to ask. This was something he intended to carry with him to the grave and he did.
Each year, when the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe arrives, Dec. 12, I think of him. In fact, I wear a medal of Our Lady around my neck every day, and it reminds me of him and his devotion to the Blessed Mother.
Recently, on her Feast Day, while praying the rosary in the morning, my Abuelo came strongly to mind. I was walking on the treadmill, praying and reflecting, and I found myself wondering why he had entrusted Our Lady of Guadalupe with a prayer so urgent and deeply personal. Why did he go to her? And more importantly, what prayer did she answer?
In that quiet moment, something came straight to my heart; it was as if an understanding washed over me. You see, my grandfather was an only child, and he was deeply loved by his mother, whom he cherished in return. What came to me was this: at the point in time he made this petition, his mother had passed years prior. When he needed prayers, when he was so desperate for an answer, he no longer had his earthly mother to turn to. So he went instead to his heavenly Mother, Our Lady of Guadalupe, entrusting her with his prayer, confident that she would hear him and answer it.
In that moment, it became clear to me that what he prayed for no longer mattered. What mattered was that he went to the ultimate Mother, to Mary, who is more Mother than Queen, and the request was heard, answered and the impossible became possible. The encounter left such a lasting impression on him that it immediately ignited a lifelong devotion to her.
I am reminded by what our Lady of Guadalupe said to Juan Diego.
Our Lady said to him,
“Am I not here, I who am your mother?
Are you not under my shadow and protection?
Am I not the source of your joy?
Are you not in the hollow of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms?
Do you need anything more?
Let nothing else worry you or disturb you.”
I truly believe that at the instant my Abuelo turned to Our Lady of Guadalupe, these words were imprinted on his heart specifically, “Am I not here, I who am your mother?” And at that moment, the truth came to light: the love of a mother is never taken away, only transformed.

Vivian Gonzalez Marino is a wife and mother of four living in the New Orleans Lakefront area. She graduated from St. Mary’s Dominican High School, LSU with a bachelor’s degree in science, and then earned her master’s in exercise physiology at the University of New Orleans. Her favorite online community is "Many Hail Mary’s at a Time."