DNA

Let me tell you about the time my Great Grandmother changed her legacy’s DNA. Her name was Rita Cordero, daughter of Alejandrina Oslan Serrano, daughter of Agapita Serrano. Born in 1909 in Camuy, Puerto Rico, she became a force to be reckoned with.

In October 1932, one of the most disastrous hurricanes, San Ciprián, tore through the island causing over 250 casualties and leaving thousands of already poverty-stricken people to pick up the remains. This included Rita, 9 months pregnant, with a toddler in tow who gave birth to Luz in a tent sometime on the night of the 26th. This night, this birth - amid this destruction - would create a legacy of both chaos and inevitable triumph.

Raising a family in the 1930s in Puerto Rico was no easy feat. Hurricane San Felipe had just ripped through the island a couple of years before San Ciprián. Recovery from natural disasters was hard enough, but The Great Depression loomed over the island and made the quality of life almost unbearable.

Thankfully Rita was no foreigner to change and destruction. Her vigor stood like a phoenix, preparing to rise from the rubble. She was a warrior, and her life was a testimony. This story will not do her justice, but it will give a glimpse into the beginning of a legacy geared up for war, both physical and spiritual.

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Luz was only two when she started showing ominous signs of malnutrition. By then Rita had given birth to two more daughters and miscarried a set of twin boys. She hadn’t noticed the weight loss as abnormal. Most children in her municipality had suffered from malnutrition at some stage in their childhood. Food was scarce. Many nights Rita had to go to bed hungry to make sure her girls had enough rice to eat. Luz, however, was quieter than usual. Rita noticed she wasn’t speaking or crying at all anymore.

One night Rita woke up in a sweat. Something was wrong. She quickly got up from her cot and raced to the girls’ room. One by one she checked on them, and when she got to Luz’s bed her heart dropped. She wasn’t there. Panicked Rita raced to the front door to see if Luz had been taken or walked off. The door was ajar, but it was dark and quiet outside. The blood drained from Rita's face. After she checked the whole house, she walked back to the girls’ room and heard a whimper come from the kitchen. It was Luz, whimpering pathetically and holding onto the wall. Rita ran toward her and Luz screamed in fear. It took Luz all her strength to stop from falling because the wind Rita created as she raced towards her. Rita bent down and scooped her frail little body into her arms. That was the first time Rita noticed that Luz’s eyes were crusted shut. She laid Luz down on her cot and after she cleaned Luz's eyes, she returned to the kitchen to prepare some tea with the leaves she had gathered that afternoon.

While Rita waited for the water to boil over the fire, she stood at the back door and watched the moon glisten on the ocean. She felt the pain in her stomach and reached for her hidden can of tobacco. She chewed some before she had to move and tend to Luz again. She looked up at the sky and wondered if anyone was watching, watching her struggle, watching her cry, watching her slowly fade away day by day. Rita returned to her daughter after spitting out the tobacco wad. After successfully giving two whole tablespoons of tea to Luz, she cuddled up next to her, wiped her tears, and kissed her daughter goodnight.

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Two weeks had passed, and Luz was just getting more miserable. She had stopped walking, she wouldn’t eat, and her belly was swollen. Every time Luz tried to cry, the few tears she managed to produce only crusted her eyes shut. Rita had done everything she could, everything she knew, to try and bring Luz back to health. She was at a loss, and she knew that if she didn’t get help Luz would be her 3rd child lost and the thought made her desperate.

One early morning Rita packed her satchel, wrapped Luz in a cloth, and started a three-hour journey to a well-known curandera in the next town over. During her walk she looked up at the sky, squinting at the glare of the harsh sun. She cried out to the heavens asking if anyone would be able to help her. She thought now would be the time. She didn’t know who she was speaking to, maybe she was speaking to nothing, but the wind picked up and swirled around her like a comforting hug. Either way, she thought, she just had to keep moving.

When she reached the curandera's hut, she cried out desperately for someone to help. Two women emerged from the back of the hut. One of them ran towards Rita and carefully grabbed Luz from her arms. The other woman called out to the witch doctor. An old feeble woman appeared from a back room and examined the child while Rita watched in anguish. The old woman reached out for a rag and some liquid from a makeshift shelf. She wet the rag and wiped Luz from head to toe. After she was done, she motioned for one of the women to hand her a clean cloth to wrap Luz in. She wrapped Luz and handed her back to Rita.

“I’m sorry, there is nothing that can be done. Take her home and try and make her as comfortable as possible. She may not make it to tomorrow.” The Curandera whispered.

Rita gasped and held the scream in her throat. She looked down at Luz wondering if she would even make it home alive. All she could do was take her home and watch her die.

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Rita got to her shack and laid Luz down. It was getting dark, so it was too late for her to get to pick up some leaves for tea. She sat next to Luz’s bed weeping. That is when she heard their voices. Two men that stood down the street under a lamppost read something out loud that caught her attention. She had heard them before but never paid them any mind however on this night they spoke of a man that healed diseases and sickness in some sort of synagogue. Some man named Jesus; Rita didn’t believe in anyone being her salvation but what was there to lose? She thought. She cleared her face and ran down the street to meet these men who spoke of this Savior.

The men agreed to come to her house and pray for her dying daughter. When they entered the room they immediately laid hands on Luz and prayed vigorously while Rita stood at the foot of the bed and swallowed her tears. One of the men opened his book and read it out loud.

“Blessed are those who have regard for the weak; the Lord delivers them in times of trouble. The Lord protects and preserves them— they are counted among the blessed in the land— He does not give them over to the desire of their foes. The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness. I said, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord; heal me, for I have sinned against You.’ Psalms 41:1-4.”

He then turned to Rita and asked her if she knew Jesus. Rita shook her head no. He told her that if she were to give her life to Jesus and proclaim Him as her one and only Savior, He would heal her daughter. Rita looked relieved; she would do anything for her child to live. Her daughter's life would be saved by this man, so she was willing to accept him. She was desperate and figured it was better than nothing. The two men asked her to repeat her vow of faith in the man written in their book. She did. She believed in Him with every fiber of her being because the alternative was not an option.

When the men left, she climbed into the cot with Luz. She stared at the wall, listened intently to Luz’s faint breathing, and continued to speak to her new Savior. She pleaded in her mind that he comes to heal her daughter quickly.

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The next morning Rita awoke to Luz’s hand touching Rita's face. Rita jumped up. She stared intently at Luz but she looked the same, eyes still crusted and breathing still faint. Only she moved her hand. Luz hadn’t moved a limb in over a week. Rita ran outside and gathered her herbs to make tea and ointment. Rita cleared Luz’s eyes and spoon-fed her the tea; to Rita’s astonishment, Luz opened her mouth without having to force her to drink. Rita looked outside at the trees swaying and thanked her Savior for sending the comfort they needed.

As the days passed Luz got better and better. First, she started eating, then walking and finally she spoke.

“Mommy, I love you.”

It was the first time her daughter had spoken to her in weeks. Rita screamed in joy and picked Luz up and ran outside. In the midst of twirling Luz in her arms, Rita vowed to serve her Savior until the end of her days. And she did, till the day she passed on February 1st, 2004 she proclaimed the name of the Most High wherever she went. Through this act, she paved a clear path for the truth's search. It was this very act that spurred her legacy to break generational curses because it changed their DNA.