A Spanish-Mexican Folk Healer

When your fiancee's mother is a curendera

(Will skip Easter weekend and post twice two weekends from now. Next are my stories about my character Francis Calderon’s struggle following the First World War with “war neurosis” — what we now call post-traumatic stress disorder.)

In my novel Renaissance Radio, the narrator and main character Riis Evans shares this story:

I spent the Summer of 1920 in San Luis Valley, Colorado, when I was just 25 years old.  Carmen and I were engaged but not yet married.  During this time Carmen’s mother, Fidelia del Castille Calderon, was usually wearing a tunic, a wool shawl, and a silk scarf.  Her bearing and manners conveyed graciousness matched by a deep inner strength.

A couple weeks after I arrive it’s decided that I will spend some time working with Madre.  Over the next month I discover that Senora Calderon is a truly remarkable woman.  “My father was a folk healer, a curandero,” she tells me, “and he passed on to me his experience and his wisdom.”

I observe Madre do her work and fulfill her mission as a curandera.  One morning I stand nearby and help with buckets and water as Fidelia delivers a neighbor’s baby. 

One afternoon I watch her spend time with a man who feels vexed and hexed.  She ties colored ribbons with seven knots.  Then she tells him that when he feels guilty or afraid he should take his hand to the seventh knot, take a deep breath, and stay aware that the knot stands for God’s blessings to him.

“Lord love you, mijo,” she tells me.  “No questions, just observe.”

Another morning Fidelia Calderon takes me with her to the home of an ailing couple.  She boils two teas, one for the husband and one for the wife.  She feeds them herbs and healing plants.  She massages the husband’s strained muscles with a salve of ointment.  She has them both bathe in salts.  When they come back out, first she rubs oil into their skin, then she cleanses their bodies from head to toe with eggs.  “Fertile hen’s eggs symbolize innocence and rejuvenation,” she tells all three of us.  She fills a bowl with water that smells like flowers.  She lights candles.  She gives them a small wooden statue of a saint, a santo.  She sweeps a string of beads over their bodies as she chants and sings and prays.  As we part, she shares with the couple a revelation that’s come to her and a powerful life lesson from her fount of wisdom and good sense.  By the time we leave five and a half hours after we arrived, the couple claims to be completely healed.

We go to many homes over the next month.  Fidelia applies some of these approaches to healing at each home.  And it always makes a difference. 

Some of the folks do not have physical ailments but suffer from depression, anxiety, excessive fear, or dangerous anger.  With each of these, Fidelia gazes into their eyes with total calm.  And she tells them something like “I’m absorbing all your negative vibrations, sweetie, and sending you a potent supply of healing power.  You must always remember, and remember now, sweet child of our Lord God Almighty, that you are worthy of happiness and worthy of love.  Your body and brain are not aligned with your soul, dear one.  Let’s bring your body and brain back into harmony with your soul.  Right now.”

Half the time she’s doing her healing work I notice that Fidelia Calderon has gone into a trance.  Her eyes roll back and then close, her face looks young, her voice becomes softer.  This transformation in her demeanor and persona, in which she seems to take on the innocent joy of a child, somehow lets her healing essence work freely.

On the way home one day I can no longer hold back my questions.  I’ve seen many people healed.  At last I blurt out to her, “I beg your pardon, Senora, but I’m puzzled and I’m just wondering, how are you doing all this?”

Fidelia takes my hands and I gaze into her warm countenance.  “You’ve seen much, mijo.  But what is really happening no one can see with their eyes.” 

I look at her with more curiosity.  She looks at me longer. “My dear beloved Riis, there is Divine Power, spiritual power, supernatural power, and even powerful energy in the natural universe.  These powers must never be trifled with, but we can channel these powers.  When we reach a state of trust – when we trust these energies and trust our self – we can let these energies flow through us.  We can transmit powerful healing energy to another person.”

Fidelia looks at me thoughtfully.  “It’s a calling and a gift,” she says.  “You Quakers know something about callings, yes?  It’s the same for us.  A healer gets in touch with God, with the Spirit, with the universe.  Then a healer lets all that warm light flow through her.” 

Then Madre adds with profound seriousness that “a person must never, ever, not even once, abuse this power.  We use this power only to bless others.”