I sat under the bridge, where so many people believed that 
Mary appeared to them.

If Mary was not on that wall before, she exists under that bridge now. The beliefs, the worship, the faith of so many honoring The Virgin Mother in that place, has strengthened the spirit of the divine feminine.

I stood there, and breathed her in. The woman who, in the stories, appeared sinful, fallen, stained, wrong to those around her, when in fact she was holding God in her body.

Cars drove by, and people did double takes, some straining to see if their eyes were playing tricks on them, some not even looking.

I stood there and thought about the way Mary always seems to be confidently shining, radiant, so gracefully sure of the divinity that she envelopes. No shame, no doubt, no apologies, just being, just shining.

After meditating, I opened my eyes to a car who decided to drive around in order to be directly in front of me. The whole family was smiling at me, and I smiled at them, feeling as if I were shining.

As I was driving away I saw another car stop, A blind older woman was led to the wall, to touch it, and receive healing. I was dizzy with the feeling that if I ran back to her and touched her eyes, she would be healed.