They had every thing about them to make life pleasant: a fine orange and lemon grove; a large garden, containing olive, almond, peach, and pear trees; indeed, all kinds of fruit and flowers, that the luxurious climate of San Diego produces.
Their house was pleasant, and furnished with all the comforts and many of the luxuries of life; and when God blessed them with a little daughter, they felt as though there was nothing left to wish for. The child resembled her beautiful mamma in features as much as the tiny bud is like the full-blown rose.
The hidalgo had never ceased to regard his wife with that kind of worshipful love so dear to woman’s heart; and his great delight was to watch tenderly over mother and child, that even the slightest wish might not pass ungratified.
As it grew older, the little one learned to recognize the glance of love; and when at last it would open its large dark eyes and look eagerly at the dear papa, and, holding out its tiny hands, crow with all the innocent delight of infancy, he would take the babe in his arms, and all the harsh lines about his mouth softened into smiles. He was happier than any one in the whole country, except the delighted mother, who was never weary of looking upon the darling of her heart.
Gracia and Catrina.
The señora was a devout Catholic, and, though she seldom left the child alone with her nurse, as the feast of Corpus Christi approached, she felt that this year, above all others so blessed to her in the birth of her beloved child, she should assist in the celebration. On the morning of the holy day, she gave her treasure, with many charges, into the care of the old servant, bidding her on no account whatever to leave the child, even for a moment. Twice, as she was about leaving, she returned to embrace the little one, with her soft eyes filled with tears. As she covered the face of her babe with kisses, she whispered, “Mamma loves thee. Mijita mia. Foolish mamma trembles to leave thee, yet the divine eye of the Holy Mother will watch over thee. Mia vida, mia vida!” Then came the sound of music, and the voice of the hidalgo calling her; so with a last embrace, with mingled smiles and tears, the young mother parted from her little one, for the first time since its birth.
There was to be a large procession formed upon the plaza, where rustic booths were built, and ornamented according to the taste and wealth of the devout, who often sacrificed the comfort of weeks, to be able to give this tribute of honor to the Holy Mother and the Blessed Christ.
Pictures of the Madonna were placed upon the rude altars, entwined with beautiful wreaths, while rare flowers shed their rich incense from costly vases. The señora had spared neither money nor pains.
“It is in honor of the Merciful Christ—the Redeemer of the world,” she said; “let every thing be as worthy of His greatness as possible; it will fall far short of what my thankful heart would offer.”