Читать книгу The City of the Sacred Well онлайн
29 страница из 66
“The sudden silence of the bells warned me that if I too intended to go to church there was no time to lose. My little stone church is not without fame, for in its then-abandoned sacristy that remarkable traveler and historian John L. Stephens made his abode when he visited my City of the Sacred Well. It was here that he wrote his notes on ‘The Ruined City of Chi-chen Itza.’ Though it has been repaired, it looks almost as he left it one cloudy Sunday morning nearly eighty years ago. Its cut-stone walls and bell-tower are the same, but its old roof, bowed with age, has been replaced with a fine new thatch of palm.
“San Isidro is the patron saint of the plantation—for no well-organized plantation is without its patron saint, whose image is venerated by all the natives there employed. The image of San Isidro in this little church on the hill at Chi-chen Itza is of unknown antiquity and is believed to be possessed of miraculous powers which are constantly manifested. Veneration for the image, together with the attraction of the three-belled chimes swinging in their places in the tiny tower, makes the little church a sacred spot not only to the people of my hacienda but likewise to the inhabitants of the near-by village of Pisté and the region for many miles around. Has not the sacred image and the big stone baptismal font been used by the archbishop himself? Was not Mat-Ek healed, who was blinded for many months by the vapor from the ikeban plant, blown into his eyes by the wind while he was gathering his crops? Was he not given back his sight in less than a week after he had prayed for aid and kissed the feet of San Isidro? And did not Mat-Ek, in token of his gratitude, have made an eye of pure silver and give it to the sainted image—an eye which now hangs over the altar for all to see? What more can you ask?