It is Christmas in the mountains
the air cool and brighter
and the blossoms on the plantains make my sorrows lighter.
We are not the three kings
but musicians
and the gift we bring is neither gold nor frankincense
but the aguinaldo we sing
and the wine and cake we play for
We know you’ll want to share them
In the name of our savior
Born this day in Bethlehem.
What did he say, the santero?
It was bad news, then it got worse.
I’m so sorry that I sent you!
What did he say that hurt?
Some nonsense about Lazarus
And wandering in the desert.
What now Esmeralda?
What’s in store for you?
I don’t shop in any store
That makes a crazy woman out of you!
Esmeralda, Esmeralda
The new postman is drunk.
This package comes from New York.
It’s addressed to you, I think.
From a Reverend Gonzalez.
I examined it in detail.
Don’t you know it’s a federal offense to read your neighbor’s mail?
Ay, Dios mio!
If I weren’t scared I’d laugh.
The cape he said was red and black.
The colors of this scarf!
A ticket for New York…
He wants me for his wife!
You cannot live in constant fear.
You have to change your life.
it is christmas in the mountains
the air is cool and brighter
and the blossoms on the plantains
make my sorrows lighter
mmhmm…
After Gumercindo left me
So treacherous and handsome
I had no one to protect me
Or look after my small ones.
Then with Reverend Gonzalez
I spoke about my son.
He was going back to America
Said he’d send for us soon.
Don’t you fear the santero’s prediction?
I am not a woman of stone.
A hawk in the sky is crying,
"You were not meant to live alone."
It is Christmas in the mountains
the air cool and brighter
and the blossoms on the plantains make my sorrows lighter.
Mmhmm…
And you may be gone for years.
When you hear the aguinaldo remember
Mayagüez.
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My god! What happened?
The sisters of charity punished him.
They call them mothers,
But they have no children.
Some cream of aloe will soothe his skin.
My name is Carmen.
Are you their mother?
Such lovely innocence...
What were they christened?
This one is Aurea.
The boy is Salvador.
Salve for little Salvi.
This will burn.
What will I do?
I don't know what to do!
Where to turn...
I feel like everything that happens is my fault.
These are my wealth.
Where is the money I must earn?
I see my children and my eyes are filled with salt.
Go to the Santero.
He'll help you, I am certain.
Sometimes we need to see behind the curtain.
When you come to the end of the Santa Cruz road
There's a path beyond the meadow.
A fence of cactus hides
The painted house of a santero.
All he asks is that you trust him
And the shells he will throw.
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