One of my happiest memories as a kid is Holy Thursday.
It is afternoon, my mum is not home for some reason. I think she is at work. It doesn’t matter, I’m all ready to go.
And here we go my abue, my Avi and I. I love holding my Avi’s arm. It is a beautiful afternoon. We walk down towards the church of El Carmen, our first stop of seven. It’s so beautiful and incredibly busy. As every year, we stay at the back, and genuflect to pray. I’ve never been sure what to pray, so I pray one Our Father and a few Hail Marys until my abue says is time to go to the next church.
The streets are so busy, food everywhere: empanadas, chalupas, cemitas, hot cakes…We find my Avi’s nephew, El Cone, selling empanadas. He holds this big basket full of delicious empanadas.
We continue our journey, and make six more stops. I pray every time we enter a new Church. In some of these visits I talk and thank God for being so good to me.
We’re done. We’re ready to start looking for a puesto to eat chalupas. As every year, my abue argues with the señoras that say don’t put any meat to the chalupas. Friday is an abstinence day, but not Thursday, by abue argues with the señoras. We discard all the puestos that are wrongly using cheese. We find the perfect chalupas. I eat them with so much joy. My Avi usually eats them with me as well. The streets are busier now, it’s noisy and I see so many families.
We walk home, ready to watch either the Ten Commandments or Ben-Hur. These are the only two movies the TV stations will be showing.