Livin' on a Prayer

So What? What if is all we have?

That’s my family name: Farela. A tribe. My tribe.

With my family I have learned a lot of things that cannot, surely, be encompassed in a Newsletter.

I have learned how to cook, clean, how to be a good host, how to make my bed, how to make people feel welcomed…

I have also learned, through my grandmother more specifically, the power of prayer.

I have learned to sustain myself through Prayer alone.

It is a “Farelo” trait. A Family Jewel. A Spiritual Heirloom.

A special gift passed down from my grandmother.

Most people in “Modern Society” will claim that it is irrational. We are, after all, logical beings. Right?

The origin of the word assumes an “earnest ask for help.” Nowadays, it has an undertone of recitation and ritualistic repetition of a mantra or established prayer. But the essence remains the same: to ask for help.

My grandmother, not by tales or explanations, but by sincere example, instilled in us this ideology and principle.

She was an interesting woman: a farmer, a mother and wife. Never having learned how to read or write. Never held a job. Never had “ambitions” other than be a good mother and fulfill her duties before God.

She loved dancing, music, food and wine. She loved happiness and would go to extremes to deliver it.

She was a healer, possessing a natural gift of easing pain.

From different villages, people would find their way to her, usually on Saturdays and Sundays.

I remember the interrupted family time where my grandma would get up from her seat to help a wanderer in pain.

The appointments started with questions. Why are you here? How can I help you? What hurts?

The variety of ailments was vast. Some had Evil Eye with symptoms such as severe headaches, vomiting and tiredness. Other would have skin conditions such as herpes, eczema or even shingles. Sometimes, a stiff neck or twisted ankle. A lot of children ranging from newborns to toddlers… Everyone was welcomed.

The technique was simple: touch, rubbing of some herbs and olive oil but mostly prayer.

I watched week after week, as my grandmother would heal these folks. The habit of seeing doctors was not the norm. Traveling to the city was inconvenient and pricey. Besides: She delivered results.

My grandmother never charged for healing. It was a Divine Gift she was happy to share and pass along. She always smiled when she saw others relived from pain. That was her favorite token.

The Tradition of the Village “Curandeira” is mostly gone in Portugal. What remains are mostly tales and stories of the old ways, of the old days in which prayer was all we had.

As a child myself, I would ask permission to stay in the corner and watch. I was fascinated with church and religion already. Seeing my grandmother putting prayer in practice seemed like watching a foreign movie: I didn’t understand everything but I knew what I was witnessing.

Throughout my life, I have experienced helplessness. Oftentimes, I decided I wanted to opt for the rational approach. 2+2 equals 4 therefore…

But to no avail…

In these helpless moments, we fight hard to escape. Escape helplessness itself, like we had a choice. We want to control the feeling, we want to be rational about it and we would do anything to feel safe again, to be in the driver’s seat. Feeling overwhelmed with pain, we gesticulate fiercely to stay above water. The fear of drowning, too real…

We want to dispute our reasons with the ancient winds. Like we know more about speed, movement, weight, sound…

There are moments… Dark, dark moments in our lives when all we can do is let out our cries. To feel our helplessness fully. To look at our pain with no desire to change it or control it.

There are night cries… that only God can hear.

My grandmother taught me a lot of things. Maybe, all of the things I carry in my back pack were given to me by her.

The most powerful remains How to Pray. To sit with your fear and learn to earnestly ask for help. To truly be humble before God.

And then you meet Him. The conversation turns light. We dance. We smile. Shy at first, and gradually with more intensity. The constant need for correction is gone.

The constant need for control, perfection or absolutes is gone. Only pleasure is real.

Somedays, some days all we have to eat is prayer.

Thanks to my Grandma, I have never been hungry.

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I am Real Estate agent licensed in the State of NY with Keller Williams of Greater Rochester.