What did you think, Mary, of your Advent?
Who knew your feelings while you waited?
What did you want for your unborn child?
What did you think about all that you were experiencing?

MARIA, Who knew about your secret dreams?
Who understood your illusions?
What was Advent like for you, María?
Did you prepare little blue trees as we do,
green or white, colored balloons, cider,
sweet bread and almonds?…

Your advent had no relevance.
You spent so much time on the road,
You looked for water, you kneaded bread.
You didn’t think about the glory, about the brilliance of a king…

What did you think, Maria, of your Advent?
You carried the sky concentrated in your own body,
You carried the Messiah as he matured,
It was the hour of plenitude and of history.

MARIA, how I wish that more than 2000 years later
you could spell out for me, like a child,
what were the dark wait, your secret sorrow,
your unwavering hope, your silent joy.

Mary, what did you think of your Advent?…
You did not show off, you did not shout at destiny,
You didn’t want to make the story difficult or complicated.
It was simply necessary, because the Father wanted it.

You knew that He was great, and You were so small,
you knew that He was God, and he did not have a cradle…
The Scripture said that He was the Messiah,
and you did not understand how the Father’s plan
was a clear and perfect way,
for this to happen, your advent, Maria!

Teach me, Mary, what my Advent should be like.
That which calls for waiting in life;
when you discover that He knocks at the door,
that he wants to be born, that he waits for a crib.
And does not find a path available and poor,

He doesn’t find hope, or he doesn’t find joy.
When we close the doors of the soul.
Because His criteria do not always coincide with ours,
we continue making our Christmases
of plastic and lights, of balloons and laughter…

And we do not see, we do not hear the man who cries.
It’s been more than 2000 years since He arrived,
yet we, who know everything,
we did not know how to see, that your advent Mary,
means to be born, it is to save,
redeeming within the man of Adam.
It doesn’t matter his race, his creed and so on…

Christmas is this: Love, nothing more.