The Patron Saint of Impossible Causes

After the first moment of bewilderment (I had just left the subway in an empty square!), I began to accompany the group, which in its advanced crossed the small square and followed until turning the corner, where lost sight of them. I followed them, of course, and finally the mystery of unveiled: indeed, I was in front of some kind of procession, since meters ahead an imposing church could be seen. Later he would know that it was the temple of St. Hippolytus and Cassian, built in 1521 and known as the Church of St. Jude Thaddeus. The interior was full. In the street, a crowd lined up to enter. People were arriving from all corners.

Between photos, I was devouring everything with my eyes and talking with the attendees, to understand a little better what was happening there: I knew then that they were celebrating St. Jude Thaddeus, patron saint of impossible causes, lost, those super difficult ones. I felt it completely appropriate to my idealistic personality, always ready to challenge that kind of epics of dubious outcome. I had never felt it mentioned, and although I am not religious, believer or whatever you call it, in the act I thought “this is the saint for me”. The official” day of St. Jude Thaddeus, I learned later, is on the 28th of October. That day the place explodes with people. But in Mexico, and in many other places in the continent, it is also celebrated on the 28th of each month. Of course, it was February 28th, and I got off at the Hidalgo station. Date with the destiny, at least photographically speaking.

The parade of devotees continued throughout the day. To thank, to give, to ask, to nourish their hope. Very humble people in his great majority, carrying images, portraits, t-shirts, caps of the saint, flowers. Children in costumes, with the green color (hope) of the Saint always present. Many gave away holy cards, flowers, candies, coffee, food, or just water to endure the heat and long lines.

I was especially entertained chatting with a young member of a group of volunteers who are dedicated to helping people with social problems, of addictions, of work, of housing. In their majority arrived to the great Mexican capital looking for an opportunity that usually costs more than what imagined. Impossible, lost, super difficult causes. Those where a ray of hope can make the difference. He told me that his name was Marcos. That day he and his companions collaborated in the organization of the human tide, giving directions, helping some old man with the stairs, bringing tranquility to some disturbed or exalted person, giving a hand in whatever was needed.

After chatting a good while with Marcos, if we can call conversation a a barrage of questions from an inquisitive and Argentinean photographer who looked looked a bit out of place, I received his kind gift of a keychain of St. Jude, which would remain with me for the rest of the trip and I keep to this day. I carried it on every departure of the Patitas Machucadas Tour, day after day and, I must say, I felt accompanied and protected by the little image.