Along the Way

ALONG THE WAY A Small Box of Miracles

They have a box of miracles at the San Xavier del Bac mission south of Tucson. It is cardboard, small, kept behind a counter at the gift shop. Inside there must be more than a hundred of them, these milagros, as they are called in Spanish.

They are tiny metal cutouts of arms and legs and hearts and hands. They feel so light, almost light enough to be carried away by a slight breeze off the desert surrounding the mission. Those who ask for them hope they will fly upward. They represent prayers.

In the church of San Xavier, you see them pinned to the coverlet that lies across the reclining statue of San Francisco Xavier, the patron saint of the mission. The faithful attach them along with their prayers for healing of an affliction in the part of the body depicted by the metal. They also pin them on when the prayers have been answered, when the milagro has come to pass.

There are other prayers of need and thanksgiving pinned to the coverlet. They come in the form of photographs, medical bracelets, and bouquets of flowers. And, there are the notes. They are left here and in the Mortuary Chapel to the west of the church. These prayers written to reach the heart of heaven, also can touch the human heart of all who pause to read.

"Protect my sons," the prayer is written. "Wherever they may be."

"Please help us find the way," is another.

"Please, God, let him be honest with me," is the plea.

honest with me," is the plea.

There are prayers requesting strength and courage, prayers for protection, for help in making it through the days. Surrounding them in both chapel and church are the hundreds of candles lit by the faithful. They too are symbols of prayers.

"A reminder of prayer rising to heaven," explains Father Michael Dallmeier, pastor of the mission.

But are they answered? Are there miracles at San Xavier? Well, there are the stories.

In the gift shop, they tell of an elderly man who comes in about once a month for cases of candles. They are purchased in thanksgiving.

"He said he had cancer," relates Elaine Moreno who works in the shop. "Now he is cancer free." Yes, says Moreno, prayers are answered here, "if you believe."

According to Father Michael, miracles here are "a daily kind of thing." He tells of a visitor who wrote to him of his experience at the mission. He was a recent widower, suffering the depression of loss. Not Catholic by faith or blood, he had little desire to leave the tourist bus, but when he did, recounts Father Michael, "he began to feel that his wife was there and everything was all right, and he left in peace."

Father Michael has his own definition of what is miraculous. He finds it in the strength of those who come here, those who write the notes, suffer the pain. "In the face of overwhelming odds, they continue to walk with hope and dignity. That's a miracle," he says.

For Dr. Bernard Fontana, recognized authority on the history of the mission and instrumental in its ongoing restoration, there are other miracles to be found here. For him, the miraculous is in the fact the mission exists after 200 years, that it is intact, and that there has always been earthly support for keeping it that way. The restoration, which began in 1989 and actually involves only cleaning to revitalize the mission's bright colors, will ultimately cost more than $2 million, and Fontana admits he had his doubts that such money would be available. But it came, from individuals, corporations, foundations.

Says Fontana, "Long ago I stopped worrying about it. I said God or somebody is looking over this place. Those with faith in the mission continue to come here as often as Father Michael's "miracles." There are times when there are so many candles lit in the small chapel that visitors find themselves wrapped in a warm and fragrant cloud of light and smoke.

In the church on Sunday, there will be a line almost to the door of those waiting patiently for their turn to pass the reclining statue, to touch it, to pin their hopes and their thanks upon it. They are pilgrims.

"They come to be changed," says Father Michael.

Others come as well, hundreds of thousands of people every year. They are the travelers, the tourists. They watch the pinning of the medals, the lighting of the candles. Those who understand explain to the others in hushed tones.

Eventually, be it pilgrim or tourist, believer or observer, the eyes go upward. They go to the ornate main altar, to the figures of the saints, the angels, to the vaulted ceiling. Outside they look upward as well, to the facade, the front of the church, and to the towers. As go their glances and their explanations and their wonder, so go the prayers of those who wish for one of the gentle miracles of this place." The miracle is the surprise of life," says Father Michael. "The miracle is another day of life. The sun came up.

And when it did, this morning and all others, it shone on the walls of Mission San Xavier del Bac.