It was Saturday, December 9, 1531. In the early morning twilight, fifty-seven-year-old Juan Diego was on his way to church for a catechism lesson. His wife Maria Lucia had died two years earlier, and Juan now lived with his uncle Juan Bernardino, who had raised him. The church was almost nine miles away, but Juan was happy to make the sacrifice. He loved his Christian faith.
Soon Juan Diego came to the brooding outline of Tepeyac Hill. Before becoming a Christian, Juan had cringed with dread at having to pass this gloomy place. The Indians believed that the mother goddess, Tonantzin, who demanded the blood of babies, lived on Tepeyac. But Juan Diego now knew that she didn’t exist. He wished that one day soon other members of his tribe would come to know this truth.
Suddenly, Juan heard what seemed like music. But it was the most beautiful music he could ever have imagined! It sounded as if every kind of bird had burst into song. The incredible sound surrounded Juan Diego, giving him a thrill of joy. He spun around in delight, letting the song become a part of him. It’s amazing! Juan thought. The birds seem to be praising God! I’ve never heard birds sing like this before. And it’s December. It’s too cold for them to be out. What’s happening? he wondered. Am I in heaven?
Juan was about to discover that heaven had, in fact, come down to earth. The privileged man could not have known it then, but the birds were witnessing a wondrous sight in which he would soon have a share. In a moment Juan’s heart would soar, too!
Just as abruptly as it had started, the music stopped. The sound of an enchanting and motherly voice replaced it. A woman’s voice was calling in Juan Diego’s native Nahuatl (NAH-wat) language, “Juantzin!” (This was the equivalent of “Juanito” in Spanish, or something like “Johnny” in English.) “Juantzin!” the voice repeated. In the Nahuatl language adding the ending “tzin” to a person’s name was a sign of special love and respect. This form of address was only used for family and close friends.
The captivating voice seemed to penetrate into Juan’s very heart. He felt himself mysteriously drawn to it as he scrambled to the top of the hill.
There Juan came face to face with a wonderful sight! Before him, shining in light, stood the most beautiful Aztec maiden he had ever seen! She appeared to be only about fourteen years old, but she possessed great majesty. The dazzling light that radiated from her person was brighter than the sun’s, yet so gentle that sunlight would later seem harsh to Juan. The astonished Indian desired only to please the young Woman. He could have stayed there forever, just gazing at her loveliness. The light coming from the Lady flooded the rocks, prickly pear bushes and mesquite plants with colors so intense that these shone like the most precious emeralds, rubies and sapphires. Even the thorn bushes and dried wisps of plants appeared to be dipped in the shining gold and delicate silver of the Lady’s reflection. Everything around the Aztec Maiden seemed to be alive with the very life of God! “What’s happening?” Juan murmured in amazement.
This was no ordinary person. Juan was sure of that. The young Lady’s star-studded mantle was decorated with designs worn by Aztec queens. Her compassionate face commanded instant respect, making Juan yearn to become her servant. She was certainly someone very special and very great! Although very young, the Lady’s face beamed a motherly love so gracious, so good, and so powerful that it made Juan Diego feel safe from every danger. He sank to his knees and waited for her to speak.
“Juantzin, my little son,” the Lady said, “where are you going?”
“My Holy One, my Lady, I am on my way to your house at Tlatelolco!” Juan Diego answered. “I am going to learn the holy things which our priests teach us.”
The already radiant Lady smiled, and Juan’s heart swelled at her approval. She nodded. “You must know, and be certain, littlest of my sons,” she said, “that I am truly the perfect and ever-Virgin Mary, holy Mother of the true God, through whose favor we live, the Creator, Lord of Heaven and Earth.”
The beautiful Lady continued, “I wish very much that my church be built here. Here I will show all my love, my mercy, my help and my protection. I am truly your merciful Mother—a mother to you and to all the other people dear to me who call upon me, who search for me, who trust in me.
“I am the Mother of all who live united in this land, and of all people, of all who are devoted to me, and of those who come to me for help.
“Here I will hear their weeping and their sorrows, and I will cure them and make things better for them.
“Go to the house of the Bishop of Mexico City and tell him that I sent you and that it is my desire to have a church built here. Tell him all that you have seen and heard.
“Now, my son, you have heard my wish. Go in peace and be sure that I will repay you for doing what I ask.”
Juan bowed to the ground. “My Holy One, my Lady,” he whispered, “I go to carry out your command as your humble servant. Wait a little while for me.”
Getting quickly to his feet, Juan Diego hurried off to Mexico City, which had been built on the ruins of Tenochtitlan. As the sun rose, he followed the route of the dike that led to the city.
Juan had promised the Mother of God that he would bring her message to the bishop. And he was determined to keep his promise!