42 Am I Not Your Mother? and the Virgin places the roses of her predilection on the tilma of our poverty. The mystery of love and life is perennially realized. Mary places her motherly heart in the heart of our people. And on the glorious hill there passes a gust of glory and a fragrant breeze of love. <> Most Holy Mary of Guadalupe, sweet Mother of the Mexican people! With stammering lips, I have spoken to your children theword of love— the one you uttered four centuries ago—the one you always carry in your heart—the one your lips would tell us today if they were open! Now I must speak the same word of love to you in the name of my country and my people. Hardly does the silence of worship seem worthy of your heavenly greatness and the solemnity of this moment. I ask nothing of you because I know that you love us, and I abandon myself sweetly to your love. I must, however, tell you the sweet secret, and to express it I adapt a formula from the Gospel, and in the name of my people and of my race I say to you with all the simplicity of my soul and with all the fire of my heart: Lady, you know that I love you!
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