Objects in the Chapel
Carol Cribbet-Bell

At first it was the organ music that beckoned to me. I was walking early in the morning as the sun was climbing into the sky. That first brush of light is always the best in the hot summer months of Tucson. I had awakened with a splitting headache and no Anacin in the house. My lips were dry from the June heat and I was out of Chapstick as well. So I decided to try to breath in the early fresh desert air for a cure. I remember watching the silhouette of a large bird float over the Mesquite trees and thinking, "what perfect stillness this time is!" and then the music reached me. I was startled at first as it seemed so out of step with the moment. But the sound was haunting and I followed it up the small hill to the chapel. The doors of the chapel were closed and she swayed back and forth as she played her song. No one else was in sight, only the stature of San Pedro looked on from his special place in the front of the chapel. I was mesmerized by the sound and image of this old lady and I spoke gently to her.

"Pardon me, but you are such a fine organist." There was no answer." Excuse me, but your music is wonderful." Still no response came to me. I tapped her shoulder. "Oh Dios mio," the old woman shouted as she turned on the organ stool to face me. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," I quickly said. She just looked at me. And then she slowly smiled. "I can't hear a thing you just said, but you certainly gave me a fright." She laughed. "I wear a hearing aid and my battery stopped working when I arrived at the chapel. If you want to talk to me just grab that pen from the jar on the pew. Write on this." She handed me a card from her pocket that was blank on one side and on the other side was printed with "Ramona Rivera, Organist, Music for Miracles." "Interesting business card and beautiful music" I wrote on the blank side.

She smiled, "Oh I have been playing the organ for over eight decades and I have seen so many miracles from music. I believe it is like a healing herb. A sort of yerba buena for the soul." "May I listen for a while? " I wrote. "Pues, of course, Senora," the old woman answered. And I walked back outside to the front stoop of the chapel. The sun has risen higher and the light caught the shiny tin in the chandelier and bounced off and out the doors to me. I closed my eyes and listened and drifted off in my own dreams of the day. When I awoke the music had stopped and the old lady was gone. So was my headache. Miracle music from Ramona. I slowly stood up stretched, and walked home.

37