I was only looking for God.

Andrea Saldaña Rivera.

I was only looking for God. It should be noted that this happened in the 50s. Father Roberto Murrieta was the parish priest of my town. In accordance with the teachings of religion in the family, I attended mass on Sundays and holy days. Mass was officiated in Latin. I remember the only phrases I learned. The priest began by saying “In nomine Patris, et Fílii, et Spíritus Sancti”to which we replied after making the sign of the cross”Amen”. He went on to say " dominus vobiscum” and in chorus we responded. “Et cum spirit tuo" And you stop counting. While the priest recited endless paragraphs in Latin, I saw the faces of those who suffered from the same ignorance. However, they honored their faith by showing the greatest silence, especially at the time of the sermon, which was in Spanish.

He recognized the end of the mass when he heard again the well-known phrase "dominus vobiscum” to which we replied “Et cum spirit tuo”, and to give us the blessing always the phrase “Benedícat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater, et Fílius, et Spíritus Sanc tus” and our final sentence of “Amen” to then turn towards the exit where we could barely hear “Ite, missa est" The "thank you” We left it to the ladies who fixed me with their accusing gaze. I always ignored her showing the best of my smiles.

I was only looking for God.

I was attracted by the variety of fruit they sold in the garden. The song of the birds flying between the branches of the trees. The numerous flowers of such vivid colors and the nectar so appreciated by those bees on hot, sunny and perfect days. The music emanated from the kiosk and from the ice cream parlors. My friends ran up to me. That blessed childhood was served to me on a silver tray.

Attending catechism was another of the typical occupations of that age. That almost sung repetition of prayers bored me a little. I forgot to say I was wearing pants. Apparently my father expected and wanted a boy, but I came. I imagine he was consoled to see me in such garments. They were most comfortable for me.

Father Murrieta noticed my clothing, approached me and said: “ A woman shall not wear men's clothing, nor shall a man wear women's clothing, because whoever does this is an abomination to the Lord your God." (Deuteronomy 22.5). Before the surprised look and my silence he said: "Tell your mom to put a dress on you to come to church." I answered "I don't have dresses”. He insisted "Tell her to buy you one, she'll look prettier”, I countered him looking into his eyes saying simply “what not”.

I was only looking for God.

He stared at me and I met his gaze and crossed my arms. As a final warning he told me “You shouldn't come to church dressed in pants.”. Challenger I replied "Well then, I'm going to look for God elsewhere, but I don't wear a dress”. The priest wanted to hide a smile that he should have hidden in his final words to emphasize that it was the end of the incident "It's fine, come dressed however you want, but don't miss catechism, it's one of the ways to find God”.

I imagine he begged inside to be forgiven. In those years the Bible was interpreted with greater severity (intolerance?). No questions or reflections were allowed. Today, I know that he must have prayed with hope, asking for understanding, something that he had and that I still did not know. I don't think it could be described as madness, although "embarrassment" appears as a synonym. Even now, many years later, I can assure you that it is the perfect word for the state in which the good Father was left that day. Robert Murrieta.